


Bien-aimé y Amado

by zephiey



Category: The Princess Diaries - All Media Types
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:25:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 41
Words: 98,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2697854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephiey/pseuds/zephiey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarisse Renaldi is the beloved to two men. But what does this truly mean for her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Title:** Bien-aimé y Amado  
 **Author:** zephiey  
 **Rating:** M  
 **Disclaimer:** Princess Diaries 1  & 2, and its characters are the property of Disney, Buena Vista, and Meg Cabot. I am only playing with them and will return them unharmed when I am finished.  
 **Summary:** Beloved: a beloved person; used as terms of endearment; dearly loved  
  
  


**Bien-aimé y Amado**

  
  
  
**Chapter 1**

  
  
“Good evening, Your Majesty.”  
  
“Good evening Joseph,” replied King Rupert. “Is everything ready?” Rupert asked, answering Joseph’s bow with a slight inclination of his head. Walking to the sideboard Rupert prepared himself a drink.  
  
“Yes, Sire.  Everything is secured, ready and we simply await Her Majesty,” Joseph responded.  
  
“She should be arriving any moment,” the King responded, taking a small sip from the glass of brandy he held as he walked to stand next to his Head of Security.  
  
“Should Sire?” Joseph asked, surprised at His Majesty’s response.  
  
“Yes, should Joseph. I haven’t seen or spoken to our lovely queen since this morning. I was informed that I was to dress in the connecting suite,” Rupert chuckled softly at the look of surprise on his friend’s face, continuing. “So that I would not see what my dear wife was intending to wear for this evening’s festivities.” Leaning closer, Rupert added in an undertone, “I couldn’t even get the maids to tell me.”    
  
Joseph chuckled.  
  
“Joseph, are you armed this evening?” Rupert asked, trying to discern the outline of a gun under his Head of Security’s tuxedo.  
  
Opening his jacket, Joseph shifted to allow his holster and pistol to be seen before buttoning his jacket once more.  
  
Nodding in response Rupert said, “Good.” Seeing the brief look of confusion on Joseph’s face Rupert simply said, “Italians.” Rupert wasn’t surprised at the slight snarl that flitted across Joseph’s face for a brief moment before his features smoothed into his normal impenetrable mask.  
  
“I didn’t realize that they were attending this evening Your Majesty?” Joseph said.  
  
“Neither did I, but it seems our esteemed Swiss hosts were unable to leave them off the guest list,” answered Rupert, the tone of his voice showing his displeasure at both his hosts and their unwanted guests. “I wasn’t informed until after the meeting this afternoon. Needless to say I was not pleased, hence my question to you.” Rupert finished his brandy replacing the glass on the sideboard.  
  
Returning to Joseph’s side to await his wife, Rupert continued. “It’s bad enough to have to deal with their pettiness and covetous at the trade table but when they act as if my wife is part of the agreement…” Rupert trailed off, trying to control his temper.    
  
“Their predecessors were more equitable,” replied Joseph, “they are”, Joseph tried to find a diplomatic term for the Italian representatives. Failing, he settled on, “crass.”  
  
“Crass is not the word that I would use to describe them,” the King ground out.  
  
Joseph looked at his sovereign closely, this was not simply about unwanted guests- there was something else involved. He had been Their Majesty’s bodyguard for many years; he was privy to more intimate details concerning Their Majesties than anyone else on staff. He knew King Rupert was passionately in love with his wife and that his wife returned that love. He had discovered them in more compromising positions than he cared to think about. ‘Dream about yes, rationally think about- NO,’ he silently added.  
  
He knew the King adored his sons and would always choose the safety of his wife and sons over his own; a choice that Joseph both admired and ultimately feared- for he knew his choice would mirror that of his king. But this was more, something was bothering his sovereign.  
  
“Your Majesty?”  
  
Seemingly jolted out of deep thought, Rupert turned to Joseph. “Yes?”  
  
“Is there a problem?” Joseph asked, locking onto the King’s gaze, conveying silently his concern and assistance.    
  
“Not a problem so much as a challenge,” replied Rupert, not surprised to see Joseph’s eyebrow rise in question. Squeezing Joseph’s shoulder reassuringly Rupert smiled saying,” Don’t worry old friend, it is nothing to be concerned over; just a small problem that will lend itself to being solved in its own time.” Looking over at the mantle clock Rupert noted the time, “If my dear wife does not hurry up we are going to be late and…”  
  
“Queens are never late…,” a soft voice replied, “…everyone else is simply- early.”  
  
 Both men turned, exclamations of surprise falling from their lips at the vision in front of them.  
  
“Mon Dieu!” breathed Rupert, his heated gaze raking over his wife’s form.  
  
“Dios mio!” whispered Joseph, staring lovingly at the vision before him.  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 2**

Joseph’s gaze swept the ballroom, noting the exact positions of Their Majesties in relation to him. They were enjoying another dance- their fifth one since arriving. The dress that Her Majesty wore emphasized her various physical attributes. Backless and sleeveless with a tapered bodice the blue silk highlighted her form, hugging her curves while still maintaining an aura of sophistication and style. The colour highlighted her eyes making them appear a deep rich blue.

 _‘Can’t blame him for wanting to keep her in his arms,’_ Joseph thought as his gaze roamed the room. Joseph’s eyes narrowed as his gaze came to rest on one of the Italian representatives. The man was openly ogling Her Majesty; the leer on his face was making Joseph’s hand itch to pull his weapon and simply put a bullet in the man’s head.

 _‘Easy old man,’_ Joseph admonished himself. _‘You can’t just kill the man- no matter how tempting it is.’_

 Joseph’s gaze returned to Their Majesties as they ended their dance and exited the dance floor.

 

 ~*~*~*~*

 

 “Thank you kind sir,” said Clarisse, accepting the glass of champagne from her husband, taking a small sip, her tongue darted out to capture an escaping droplet from the rim of her glass- never taking her eyes off her husband. She fought the urge to smile at her husband’s hungry expression as he watched her. She couldn’t suppress the thrill of feminine power as she watched his eyes darken with desire.

 Taking a deep breath Rupert replied, “You’re welcome, my dear.” He hoped his voice did not betray the desire he was experiencing as he watched his wife drink. Between her dress, her scent and now her more than obvious teasing- which he acknowledged with a raised eyebrow and glass- he hoped he would be able to curb his desire to drag her out of here, find a dark place and ravish her. _‘Although, if she keeps doing that…’_

 “Stop it,” Rupert hissed softly.

 “Stop what?” asked Clarisse, innocently.

 “You dammed well know what woman,” growled Rupert, trying to ignore his body’s response. It was dammed embarrassing at his age and how long they had been married how easily his body responded to the slightest stimuli from his wife. He swore the woman had somehow ingrained a Pavlovian response in him. It took nothing more than a look, a scent or a word for him to become so aroused that all he could think about was burying himself in her soft, welcoming body.

 “Clarisse,” he warned as she moved closer, her hand caressing the front of his jacket.

 “Yes, darling?”

 “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he asked her touch branding him. Rupert knew if he didn’t put some space between the two of them his already diminishing control would soon be non-existent. Taking a deep breath, Rupert suddenly realized his mistake. The distinct scent of her arousal mixed with her perfume assaulted his senses. Closing his eyes Rupert fought for control. It wouldn’t do for the King of Genovia to grab his wife, push her against a wall and ravish her in full view of most of European Society. But if he didn’t get away from her for a few minutes that would be exactly what would happen. The only person in attendance that would not be surprised at the event would be Joseph.

  _‘Joseph,’_ Rupert latched onto that thought. Covering her hand with his Rupert all but dragged his queen to where their Head of Security stood. Rupert stopped, ignoring the questioning looks from his wife and Joseph.

 “Dance with Her Majesty Joseph,” Rupert ordered, surprised that his voice sounded almost normal. Seeing the surprise on the face of the man Rupert allowed his expression to slip- it was replaced by a look that the other man quickly recognized.

 “It would be my pleasure,” Joseph responded, bowing.

 “Rupert?” Clarisse questioned, surprised. She had danced with Joseph before but this was the first time that Rupert all but threw her in the arms of the other man.

 Moving to stand behind his wife, Rupert whispered, “Do as I ask, my dear.” Shifting closer, Rupert allowed his wife to feel his obvious arousal. “For your safety and modesty,” he growled in her ear before stalking away.

 Watching her husband stride away and out the balcony doors Clarisse turned to Joseph. Not missing the smile or the look of sympathy for his king, Clarisse stepped into Joseph’s arms.

 As they joined the other dancers in a waltz, Joseph leaned in and whispered, “You are evil, Your Majesty.”

 Clarisse looked surprised for a brief moment before her soft, melodious laughter filled the room.

  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 3**

 

Rupert leaned against the balustrade, letting the cool night air calm him. He shook his head and chuckled softly at his actions moments before. He had thrown Clarisse into Joseph’s arms and he knew from Joseph’s expression that the other man was well aware of his pressing problem. It wouldn’t surprise him if Joseph ended up with an equally pressing problem after he danced with Clarisse.                           

It was strange how his wife had no idea the effect she had on most of the male population. How most of the men that interacted with her wanted to have her in their bed. How they wanted to feel her skin under their hands and taste her lips. How they wanted to hear her cries of passion as they drove into her body.

There were times it took all his self-control not to slam his fist into the faces of those pompous jackasses as they ogled her! And there were times he wanted to shout at the top of his lungs _**‘SHE IS MINE…EYES OFF!’**_

He knew that she was comfortable with her sexuality when she was with him. She would tease and tempt him easily without being blatant and he knew that this ease stemmed from the safety she felt from within their relationship. But it still amazed him at how naïve…no innocent she was.  The sound of laughter drifted toward Rupert and he glanced back into the ballroom seeing his wife’s head tipped back, laughter escaping from her at a comment made by Joseph.

 _‘Probably called her on her teasing,’_ Rupert watched as the two danced their movements’ fluid.

From his vantage point Rupert was able to see Clarisse’s expression as Joseph twirled her in his arms. She was relaxed, enjoying the dance and the conversation coming from Joseph. _‘He always could get her to laugh, even when she was angry,’_ thought Rupert before straightening abruptly.

 _‘Why didn’t I see it before,’_ he thought as he watched Clarisse and Joseph dance. The answer had been staring him in the face. _‘Joseph! It is Joseph! He is the one,’_ thought Rupert, almost giddy at the revelation that the man he had been looking for; the one that would ensure that Clarisse was protected, supported and loved after he was gone was in fact a man that Rupert trusted above all others.

As Rupert continued to watch one dance end and another begin with neither relinquishing the other as a partner he recalled a conversation with his grandmother, the Dowager Queen, years ago.

~*~*~*~*

  _“Rupert, mon loup, comment ca va?”  
_

_“Bien, grand-mere., et toi?” Rupert answered, bending down to kiss her on the cheek.  
_

_“I am doing well also, mon loup,” his Grandmother answered. “Come, sit with me,” she said,” I have something to speak to you about.”  
_

_Sitting down on the sofa next to his grandmother, Rupert was surprised when she took his hand in hers, turning it up to stare at his palm. He said nothing as she traced the various lines on his palm. He had heard the stories about his grandmother; about her Romani blood and how her grandmother had married a gadjo, a non-Gypsy and had been disowned. He had asked his grandfather once about the rumours but his grandfather neither confirmed nor denied them. He had simply said, “She is who she is, the love of my life.” His father was even less forthcoming, simply replying that she was the Dowager Queen.  
_

_Rupert hadn’t pursued it further but there were times that he was sure there was more to his grandmother than simply being the Dowager Queen. Shaking himself free from his musings he looked up into his grandmothers’ eyes.  
_

_“Her eyes will draw you, mon loup,” she began, her voice strong and firm. “Her soul will sing with yours,” Rupert heard his grandmother say as he stared into her eyes. “Love her as no other, mon cher. But it will not be you who must protect her, mon loup. For that, you must find another,” his grandmother instructed._

_“Her protection is paramount to the future of the Renaldi line,” his grandmother continued, her voice seeming to come from far away. “She will be loved by both wolf and leopard. Mon loup first, el leopardo second. Find the leopard, mon loup and protect the line, your love and the Crown.”_

~*~*~*~*

 The conversation had all been forgotten until he had met Clarisse. His parents had been arranging his introduction to suitable candidates to marry for months and Rupert had grown tired of the tedious meet and greets that seemed to fill the summer months. But all that changed when he had met Clarisse. The moment that they had been introduced he had been smitten. So much so that he refused to even consider any other candidates for his bride.

The row that erupted between he and his father, the King had been spectacular. As King, his father hadn’t been impressed with Clarisse. A few of his nicer misnomers had been klutz and passable looking. If it hadn’t been for his mother, his grandmother, and his uncle, Rupert would have abdicated his right to the throne, married Clarisse and left Genovia. It wasn’t until after their wedding that his father finally accepted that Clarisse was the correct choice for Queen and wife to Rupert. Laughing softly, Rupert recalled exactly what had caused his father to accept Clarisse.

 ~*~*~*~*

  _Clarisse walked down the hallway, her heels clicking on the marbled tiles, her speed the only outward indication of the fury she felt. Inwardly she was ranting at the King, her father-in-law.  
_

_‘What does he think I am? A broodmare,’ Clarisse fumed. ‘How dare he make such a comment to Parliament!’ Clarisse seethed, crumpling the paper in her hand.  
_

_Arriving at the door of the King’s office, Clarisse ignored Marcus, the King’s aide and threw open the doors. Striding across the office, Clarisse ignored the surprised looks from the various officials including her husband at the table. Placing the paper down on the table, Clarisse pointed to it while whispering in the ear of the King. Whatever she said was between her and the King but she made her point well, if the expression on the King’s face was any indication.  
_

_Offering her apologies for the interruption, Clarisse turned to leave. The King’s voice stopped her exit.  
_

_“Six months, my dear?” asked her father-in-law.  
_

_Clarisse turned, tilted her head in consideration and answered, “Ten at least, Your Majesty.”_

_“Ten?”  
_

_“Yes,” Clarisse responded. “After all, practice makes perfect,” she added before exiting.  
_

_As she walked down the hall, she could hear the King’s answering laugh._

 ~*~*~*~*

 Watching Clarisse and Joseph end their dance and Clarisse excuse herself Rupert thought, _‘Joseph **is** who grand-mere referred to all those years ago.’_

As Clarisse crossed the dance floor toward one of the small salons accompanied by Anton, a member of Joseph’s security team, Rupert eyes narrowed.

“First things first,” growled Rupert, re-entering the ballroom; it was time to speak to a certain Italian representative about his manners.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 4**

                     

Rupert waited for Joseph to return with Signor Gravago and Signor Solero, two of the Italian representatives. Rupert knew Emesto Solero, he had been the ranking Italian representative in Genovia for years before he semi-retired. His replacement, while not as well known to Rupert was equally as respected in Genovia.  It was not Emesto or his successor that Rupert took offense with but rather Antony Gravago, one of the newer and younger representatives. The younger man’s thinly veiled comments were often ignored at the trade table; Rupert had been in the diplomatic business long enough to know how to ignore rude comments. His behaviour, while never exemplary was at least tolerable.

That is until tonight!

Gravago’s behaviour and comments this evening had crossed the line.

He refused to tolerate it any longer!

The final straw was the leering look Gravago had given Clarisse as she left the ballroom.

Rupert’s patience with the man was over!

Hearing the salon door open Rupert stood behind the desk, his posture and bearing every inch the King of Genovia. Gravago would soon learn how dangerous it was to insult his wife, the Queen.

 

~*~*~*~*

 

Emesto Solero watched silently as His Majesty, King Rupert dealt with Gravago. The man was a pig, a porcaccione!  His rise to power and his appointment as representative was the result of bribery and coercion. He had ties to the Camorra and he used those ties to achieve his goals. He was well-known for his womanizing and had a reputation of seducing married women and young girls. He had already seduced a number of Europe’s parliamentary wives, their daughters and made no secret of his conquests.

Now the man had his sights set on Queen Clarisse!

His comments about the lovely queen were a constant at the trade table and he had even gone so far as suggesting that if Genovia wanted to enhance trade with Italy that perhaps the Her Majesty could add a more ‘personal touch’ to the trade negotiations.   Emesto fought a smile as he remembered the response from the King. Rupert had ignored the comment but Emesto had been close enough to His Majesty to hear him swear in four languages- one being Latin! It had taken all his self-control not to burst out laughing at His Majesty’s response or the names that the King had called Gravago.

Now the fool was sitting here, immersed in his conceit and ignoring the fact that he was steadily pissing off two of the most powerful men in Europe! Emesto fought a smile. He wasn’t sure if Gravago would leave the room walking- much less alive. He almost pitied the man.

Almost!

 ~*~*~*~*

 

 _‘This had gone on long enough,’_ Joseph fumed. _‘Hijo de puta has insulted reina mia for the last time!’_

Glancing at His Majesty Joseph noticed the calm look, the tight jaw and the hard look in his eyes. _‘Mierda! He is pissed!’_ Joe thought. _‘This is not good.’_

 The last time Joe had seen His Majesty this angry was when Prince Pierre had been attacked at University.

Pierre had suffered a knife wound and security had subdued and apprehended his attacker. Their Majesties had heard of the attack and the King had flown to England to make sure Pierre was alright. After assuring himself that his son was fine, His Majesty had requested to be taken to speak with the would- be-assassin. Joe had been interviewing Pierre’s security detail at the time, unaware of His Majesty’s request. Hans along with additional English security and a few members of the King’s detail had escorted His Majesty to where the man was being held. When Joe had been informed of where the King was and that he was alone with his son’s attacker, he had raced through the maximum security building as fast as he could. When he arrived at the interrogation room, he could hear the screams inside. He ordered the door to be opened immediately and had been informed that they had been trying to open it since the first scream. Something had jammed the door shut and it would take them a few more minutes to get it open. Joe was informed that there was a viewing room next door, and security was there. Joe entered the viewing room, he prepared himself for the worst. The audio feed to the room was open; the screams from the room filled the area. But it wasn’t the screams that seemed to shock the men watching, it was the King.  The King was methodically and slowly torturing his son’s attacker. Joe could see the broken fingers and wrist of one hand. The man’s arm lay useless at his side, Joe was sure that his collarbone was broken. Joe watched as the King wrenched the man out of his chair, ignoring his cries of pain and pushed him against the wall. The man tried to fight back but the King simply evaded him. Joe’s eyes widened when he saw the knife glint and he tore out of the interview room. 

“Get it open NOW!” he shouted.

It seemed like hours before the door was finally opened. Joe had been the first into the room and it was he who stopped his King from gutting the man.  Now it looked as if he would have to prevent His Majesty from killing another man.

 _‘Or not,’_ as he heard the latest comment from Gravago.

  ~*~*~*~*

 

Rupert could feel the cold fury enveloping him as Gravago continued to speak. It seemed the man was unable to appreciate the delicate situation that he was in. As Gravago continued to speak Rupert finally snapped.

“Enough!” he roared.

“Signor Gravago,” Rupert began as he walked around the desk, “I don’t think you realize the gravity of the situation that you find yourself in.” Rupert waved aside the man’s protestations as he stopped directly in front of his chair. “You have insulted the Genovian Crown. You have insulted the Royal Family,” Rupert said. “You have insulted Her Majesty, Queen Clarisse.” 

Leaning forward, Rupert forced the man back against his chair. “But worse than that,” Rupert added, dangerously soft, “you have insulted my wife. And that, Signor Gravago I do not allow anyone to do,” he growled.  Noting the fear in the man’s face before his bravado kicked in Rupert straightened and continued, “It is well within my rights as sovereign to have you drawn and quartered for your insults to the Crown but…” 

“Your Majesty…” 

“Silence!” the King growled. “But,” Rupert continued, his voice deceptively calm, “I prefer more modern methods when dealing with insults,” he explained. “Joseph?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” answered Joe.

“Your weapon,” ordered Rupert, holding his hand out.

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” answered Joe, pulling his 9 mm weapon from his holster. Laying it in the hand of his King, the barrel faced Joe. Resuming his former place, Joseph placed his arms behind his back, standing at ease once again.

Rupert shifted the pistol in his hand, sliding his finger next to the trigger. “As I was saying Signor Gravago,” Rupert raised the weapon until it was pointed directly at the head of the Italian, “I prefer more modern methods.”

Gravago stared at the man in front of him, the cold look in his eyes caused sweat to break out and run down Gravago’s back.

 _‘Surely he wasn’t intending to shoot him,’_ he thought. _‘No, he couldn’t be intending to shoot him!’_ Chancing a glance at Solero he noted the other man’s calm demeanour. If Solero wasn’t concerned then surely he had no reason to be.  Swallowing the fear that seemed to tighten his throat, Gravago schooled his features into a calm façade and began to speak. 

“Your Majesty. Surely we can come to an understanding. I apologize if my comments or behaviour has upset Her Majesty,” he said, trying to sound sincere but failing.

His Majesty’s expression never changed.

Gravago’s temper and bravado rose.

 _‘How dare this King, this figlio di puttanathreaten me!’_ Gravago thought. _‘Does he not know who I am? I can order this bastardo killed with one phone call!’_

“Your Majesty,” Gravago began his tone insolent. “I do not take well to threats, nor do my associates in Italy. I am sure you know of the associates I speak of,” he said, the threat of the Camorra and its vast network should be enough to make the King think twice about his actions.  Gravago could not keep the smirk off his face as he saw His Majesty begin to lower the weapon. The smirk faded quickly when Rupert placed the barrel of the gun against Gravago’s temple. 

“And you should know that the Camorra and the other groups in Italy have no urge to engage the Crown of Genovia. After all,” Rupert continued, his voice low and dangerous,” the last time resulted in the Viterbo Massacre.”

At the mention of the historic massacre that took place in Viterbo, north of Rome, Gravago paled. Everyone within the Organizations was well aware of what happened in Viterbo. It was the last time that any crime organization had attempted to infiltrate Genovia. The massacre had happened over 150 years ago but the viciousness of the Genovian Crown was still talked about today.

“Now Signor Gravago,” His Majesty began, standing and removing the weapon from Grevago’s temple, “I think it is time for you to resign…”

“Resign?” Gravago asked. “Why? Why would I resign?” he asked confused.

“For health reasons, obviously,” Joseph said as His Majesty handed his weapon back.

Gravago had forgotten the King’s Head of Security. Turning to look at him Gravago fought against the urge to cower as the man looked at him. While His Majesty’s eyes had been cold when he threatened to shoot him, the other man’s eyes were filled with hatred and the promise of a slow, agonizing death if he did not follow the suggestions that were being made. “Resign…resign…of course,” Gravago agreed, suddenly wanting to put as much distance between the Royal Head of Security and himself as possible.

 The discussion of his resignation took little time at all and Gravago was relieved when he and Emesto were dismissed. Joseph held the door open for the two men to exit. As Gravago walked through the doorway Joseph put a hand out to halt his progress. Gravago stopped, surprised.

 “Signor Gravago,” said Joe.

 “Yes,” he answered.

 “Hide,” snarled Joseph. Gravago suddenly realized that while the King was finished with him, his Head of Security was not. He saw his death in his eyes.

 Not bothering to answer, he rushed out of the room.

 _‘Maybe if he stayed hidden long enough he would be safe,’_ he thought. He glanced back realizing how wrong he was.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 5**

Clarisse snuggled next to her husband, enjoying his scent and the feel of his arms wrapped around her as they rode back to their hotel. Tonight had been enjoyable. She had danced with Rupert almost exclusively. The required dances with their hosts were few, Rupert had monopolized most of her time.

Most. But not all.

He had, after all thrown her into the arms of Joseph.  
  
 _‘Dear Joseph,’_ thought Clarisse. _‘He didn’t even bat an eye when she was tossed at him.’_

Clarisse smiled softly. It was rare that she had a chance to dance with their Head of Security and when she did she found herself always enjoying their dances and at the same time hoping they would never end. She always felt as if she were walking a knife edge between safety and danger when dancing with Joseph. With Rupert there was a sense of familiarity, of safety but with Joseph the feeling was different. There was an undercurrent of danger that quickened her pulse and made her almost breathless. Whenever they ended a dance she always found herself lightheaded, but strangely grounded. It was a unique sensation. She often found herself wondering about other differences between the two men. Would their kisses feel the same? Rupert’s kisses started slow and exploratory before becoming passionate, fiery and all-consuming. He always tempered his strength with gentleness. Would Joseph kiss her in the same manner? Would he start out slow, exploring her lips before delving in between them to deepen the kiss or would he simply ravish her mouth all control gone?

Clarisse was honest enough to admit that she was attracted to Joseph. What women in her right mind wouldn’t be? His body was lithe and graceful and his trademarked black clothing added a touch of danger. He moved like a predator, a powerful leopard. But it wasn’t just his physical looks that attracted her, or the safety she felt in his presence; it was his demeanour also. He was intelligent, with a dry wit that had her stifling laughter when he commented on the various parliamentary and trade meetings he attended as her guard. His character and physical presence combined equalled a very powerful attraction!

This didn’t mean that she loved her husband less or even contemplated breaking her marriage vows just that if she were free, she could see allowing herself to become Joseph’s lover. It would be extremely easy and it was that ease that frightened Clarisse; frightened of becoming addicted to Joseph’s attentions. She already found herself unwilling to be without his company for a day.

When he and Rupert were away on scheduled royal trips she found herself missing both men terribly: Rupert as her husband and Joseph as her friend. She missed their conversations, their teasing and even their counsel. She would often arrange her schedule so that she would be available when they called. She regularly spoke with both men on speakerphone finding it easier to speak to them together about the various happenings around the palace, her meetings and any present or future security issues rather than chance forgetting to inform one or the other of an important event. They, in turn, would tell her everything, often in tandem, of what was happening on the trip and frequently reduce her to laughter as a result of their tales. Joseph would normally wish her a good night first, ending his portion of the call. She and Rupert would then continue to talk for another hour about everything and nothing before wishing each other a good night.

At times she and Rupert’s conversations would take a more intimate tone. She would often initiate the conversation by asking her husband where he was sitting. Depending on his answer, she would either tease him shamelessly or describe to him exactly what she was doing and feeling. If he was at his desk going through correspondence she would describe their favourite under the desk fantasy. If he was in bed she would urge him to join her in self-pleasure, knowing that when they saw one another again he would remind her of their phone call. She loved how the timbre of Rupert’s voice would deepen taking on a husky quality when they spoke intimately. His speech would become more accented, the French of his childhood colouring his words as he described to her what he wanted to do to and with her. Clarisse could listen to him speak all night, he could and did bring her to climax with his voice alone.

 _‘It’s similar to velvet and dark chocolate. One reason I ask him to speak to me when we make love,’_ thought Clarisse.  
  
But it wasn’t just when they made love or engaged in intimate conversation that she responded to his voice. When Rupert gave a speech Clarisse found herself quite often, by the end of it, wet and wanting.

The opening of Parliament was especially difficult!

While her husband was speaking about the year to come and all the work that needed to be accomplished all Clarisse could think about was coming herself- preferably, from Rupert’s mouth loving her. Clarisse smiled softly. She could imagine Parliament’s reaction to that tidbit of information!

Stuffy old men!

Even during these more intimate conversations part of Clarisse would wonder how Joseph would react if he were present during one of these conversations. Would he remain silent or would he offer suggestions as Rupert did? Would he describe in vivid detail, exactly as Rupert did what he would do when they were together once more? Would his voice deepen, become more sensual, sexier, fuelling her desire until she achieved orgasm from his voice alone? Would he make love to her slowly or simply fuck her, taking pleasure from her body and forcing her to find pleasure also?

Was she wanton to think about Joseph in this way? It was these thoughts and the actions that would result from them that troubled Clarisse. Looking up at her husband Clarisse wondered exactly how he saw their relationship with Joseph.

Were they more than friends?

She knew they had been comrades when they both served in the Legion, Rupert’s enlistment ending earlier than expected due to the demands of his position within the Royal Family.  
  
But how close were they? Did Rupert want Joseph for something other than Head of Security? Could he be grooming Joseph to be her paramour?

After all, Rupert was almost nonchalant about Joseph discovering them _in flagrante delicto_. Anyone else interrupting them found themselves on the blistering end of Rupert’s temper, but with Joseph, Rupert simply laughed while she turned red with embarrassment. Rupert teased her constantly about her ability to go topless at the beach with no embarrassment but being caught _in flagrante dilecto_ by their Head of Security had her flushing deeply.

But paramour? Could it be possible? It was not unusual; Genovian history was rife with Kings who secured their Queen’s protection by grooming a well-trusted advisor or friend as paramour. It was often done to ensure that the Queen was protected when the King died or was killed. Did Rupert fear that he would not live to see Philippe crowned king?

Clarisse fought back the tears at the thought of losing her husband, gripping his hand tightly. She hated to think about losing her husband. It frightened her more than anything!  
  
“Clarisse?” asked Rupert, looking at his wife, surprised at the death grip on his hand.  
  
Looking up into the concerned face of her husband, Clarisse shifted in his arms. Releasing his hand she grasped his head, pulling it toward her. Her lips met his in a ferocious kiss. She poured all her love and passion into the kiss, parting her lips to tease and taste his mouth. Surprised then overwhelmed by the passion of the kiss Rupert quickly reciprocated. Soon the couple was embroiled in a passionate embrace oblivious to everything but each other.

 

  ~*~*~*~*

 

Arriving at the hotel Joseph signalled for the detail to take their positions prior to the opening of the limousine door. Reaching for the door handle Joseph announced that they had arrived as he opened the door for Their Majesties. His announcement went unnoticed by the occupants of the limousine. Reacting quickly, Joseph slipped into the back before closing the door. Clearing his throat gently he waited.

Rupert was the first to realize that they were not alone. Shifting his wife so she was shielded by his jacket Rupert gazed into the blue eyes of his Head of Security. He noted that Joseph’s gaze was directly on his face.

“Your Majesty, we’ve arrived,” Joseph said quietly.

Hearing his voice Clarisse sat up quickly- Joseph’s gaze unconsciously shifted to her- revealing a glimpse of her breasts to the gaze of the other man, before fixing the bodice of her gown. If Rupert hadn’t been watching the other man so intently, he would have missed the flare of desire that flashed across Joseph’s face and in his eyes before his impenetrable mask slipped back into place.  
  
 _‘Perhaps approaching him to be her protector will not be as difficult as I thought,’_ Rupert considered.

“Thank you Joseph,” replied Clarisse, embarrassed at being caught _in flagrante delicto_ once again by Joseph.

Rupert stifled the urge to laugh at Clarisse’s obvious embarrassment; she should be used to being caught by Joseph. Instead he simply straightened his attire, aided Clarisse on with her cape and waited for Joseph to open the limousine door. Following Clarisse, Rupert exited the limo. Slipping his arm around her, Rupert placed a soft kiss on the top of her head and following security, escorted his wife into the hotel.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 6  
**

Rupert pulled Clarisse’s body closer to his, not surprised when she barely stirred. She was exhausted by their lovemaking as was he, but unlike his beautiful wife he was unable to slip into the arms of Morpheus just yet.

His thoughts were filled with the evening’s events. From the vision of Clarisse in her gown and the realization that Joseph was the one that his grand-mere had spoken about to his encounter with Gravago- he had to remember to tell Joseph not to mention that to Clarisse. She would have their guts for garters if she found out about it. There were few things that made Clarisse lose her temper thoroughly, one of them was when he ‘played caveman’ as she put it. She preferred a more sophisticated or diplomatic way of doing things and so did he- most times. But there were instances when ‘caveman tactics’ achieved better results. Gravago warranted _‘caveman tactics.’_

The ride home in the limousine had been uneventful until Clarisse kissed him. He had quickly reciprocated and soon lost himself in his wife’s arms. 

 

~*~*~*~*

 

Rupert couldn’t contain the deep moan that rumbled through his chest as Clarisse ravished his mouth. She demanded his reciprocation and he was powerless to do anything but return her fevered kisses. Pulling her up and into his lap, Rupert broke their kiss nibbling his way across her cheek and jaw line to stop at her neck. Laving and nibbling at her neck Rupert’s hands slipped beneath her cape to caress her bare back.

“Ohhh…Rupert,” Clarisse moaned in response to his hands and lips. “More,” she pleaded. She needed to feel his hands all over her body.

In response to her plea Rupert deftly unclasped and removed her cape, letting it fall to the floor of the limo, uncaring of the possible damage to it. Sliding his hands over her shoulder he caressed her collarbone before moving down to palm her breast through her gown.

Clarisse arched in response as Rupert slid his hand over and into the bodice of her gown, teasing her nipple to a stiff peak. Her moans of pleasure filled the small space, as she returned her husband’s caresses. Her hands stroked across Rupert’s broad shoulders and chest before slipping in between the studs of his shirt to flick and touch his nipples.

In response, Rupert captured her lips in a scorching kiss, his hands yanking the bodice of her gown down to bare her breasts to the night air and his gaze. Ending the kiss, Rupert lifted her torso up, latching onto her left breast, pulling and suckling the silky flesh into his mouth. With teeth and tongue he teased the taut nipple. Switching to her right breast he repeated his actions.

“I love your breasts,” Rupert whispered, as he released her. “I could worship them forever, mon amour.”

“Je t’aime,” Clarisse whispered, looking deep into her husband’s eyes.                                                    

“Je t'aime de tout mon couer,” Rupert answered. “Je t’adore. Je t’aime,” he added before softly kissing her.

Clarisse lost herself once again in the passion of her husband’s kisses. Sliding his hand over the soft silk of his wife’s gown, across her hip and down her leg, Rupert slipped his hand under her gown. Trailing his fingers over and up the silk of her stockings Rupert massaged behind Clarisse’s knee before caressing up to her thigh. His fingertips trailed over the top of her stocking following the contour of the band before slipping to caress the soft skin above. He could feel the heat emanating from her core. He allowed his fingers to dance softly over her cloth covered mound, swallowing her gasps of pleasure.

“More,” Clarisse pleaded. Clarisse cared little that they were riding in a limousine surrounded by security personnel. She cared little that they could, at any moment, be interrupted. The ache in her demanded satisfaction!

Slipping her hand to her centre she grasped Rupert’s wrist through the silk of her gown forcing it harder against her core. “More…,” she demanded. “Fingers…inside me,” she ordered in between kisses.

Rupert slid her panties aside, his fingers poised to caress and enter her; poised to bring her pleasure. But just as he was ready to slide into her moist heat, Rupert suddenly realized that they were no longer alone. Glancing up, he stared into the blue gaze of his Head of Security. Slipping his hand from under Clarisse’s gown and shifting so that she was shielded Rupert heard her soft moan of denial.

“Rupert?” Clarisse asked her voice husky and filled with passion.

Before he could respond, Joseph’s voice cut through the silence. “Your Majesty, we’ve arrived.”

 

 ~*~*~*~*

 

 Rupert breathed in the scent of his wife, his arms tightening around her. Placing a light kiss in her hair, his thoughts continued to recall this evening’s events.

 

~*~*~*~*

 

Rupert followed Clarisse into their suite, stifling a smile at her muttered cursing. So far she had thoroughly cursed himself, Joseph and every member of the security team, their antecedents, descendents and every familial connection in no less than six languages. His wife was not happy that her pleasure had been interrupted and it took all his self-control not to laugh at her predicament. He was looking forward to making love to his wife tonight and that would be difficult to do if he were regulated to the sofa. Watching as Clarisse entered the suite’s bedroom, Rupert turned to Joseph.

 “We leave tomorrow at two, correct?” he asked.

 “Yes, Your Majesty,” replied Joseph.

 “Good. See that we are not disturbed until at least eleven? That will give James and Margaret plenty of time to still pack,” explained the King.

“Of course, sire,” replied Joseph. “I’m assuming that you will want brunch delivered at that time?” Joseph asked, the glint in his eye and the grin on his face conveying his thoughts.

“You assume correct, my friend,” answered Rupert, grinning devilishly.

Interpreting the look on his King’s face correctly, Joseph held up his hands in defeat, saying, “No further information is necessary, Your Majesty.”

Laughing in response Rupert wished Joseph a good night before entering the bedroom, closing and locking the door.

Turning from the door his breath caught at the vision before him. Clad in nothing but her stockings, garter and heels Clarisse stood at the foot of the bed, waiting. He watched as she walked over to him, her hips swaying seductively, her curls glistening with her arousal. Stopping just short of him she reached out and ran a finger down his chest, over his jacket.

“One of us is overdressed,” said Clarisse.

“And what should we do about that?” asked Rupert, huskily.

Flicking open the button of his tuxedo jacket, Clarisse answered, “Oh, I am sure we can find a solution.”

Moving her hands up Rupert’s chest, Clarisse deftly opened the tuxedo studs that held the shirt closed before opening and removing the cufflinks that held the cuffs of the shirt closed. Moving away, Clarisse dropped the cufflinks onto the small side table before returning to her husband. Slipping her hands around his waist she deftly removed his cummerbund, letting it drop to the floor before sliding her hands under the shirt and jacket removing both garments. Both slipped to the floor to join the cummerbund.  Stepping back she licked her lips at the sight of her husband’s well-developed chest and the soft hair that trailed across it and down his abdomen. Dropping to her knees gracefully, Clarisse tapped Rupert’s ankle indicating that he should step out of his shoes. Once his shoes were removed, Clarisse lifted each pant leg, unsnapping and removing both sock and garter, dropping them to the floor. Running her hands up her husband’s calves to his thighs she stopped, capturing Rupert’s gaze with her own. Staring into his eyes she caressed, moulded and stroked his arousal. Rupert never broke eye contact with Clarisse as he hauled her up, into his arms, his lips crashing down against hers.

Clarisse lost herself in the passion of Rupert’s kiss. Rupert’s hands stroked over her shoulders and down her spine to come to rest on her derriere. Pulling her tighter against his body he teased her, pressing his arousal into her centre while mimicking the movement above with his tongue.  

Releasing her lips Rupert whispered, “My god woman, je t’adore.” Moving back Rupert dropped to his knees, grabbing Clarisse by the hips. “Let me worship you,” he begged before burying his face in her curls, his tongue reaching out to taste her.

Clarisse grabbed at Rupert’s shoulders, her knees almost buckling at the overwhelming sensations that she was receiving from his mouth.

He was in heaven. His senses were filled with the scent and taste of his wife. His tongue delved between her curls teasing her essence from her, slowly, sensually. But he needed more, he needed to have her open for him; to be able to taste and savour every delectable intimate inch of her until she screamed his name. With one more swipe of his tongue, Rupert stood abruptly, scooping Clarisse into his arms he walked to the bed, laying her down gently, her legs hanging off the edge. Grabbing one of decorative pillows from the top of the bed Rupert placed it on the floor. Kneeling on the pillow Rupert whispered, “So soft…so silky…” as he kissed and caressed first her left, then right leg. Placing his hands on Clarisse’s thighs Rupert pushed them apart opening her to his gaze.

“So wet,” he whispered as his fingers caressed her. “So sweet,” he moaned as he licked her with one broad stroke. “Look at me Clarisse,” he ordered slipping his finger into her wet channel. “Watch me as I love you,” he said.

Clarisse raised her head to look into the sensual gaze of her husband. “Please Rupert,” she begged, needing to feel his mouth on her again. The ache inside her was becoming almost unbearable. Watching as Rupert lowered his head to her core, Clarisse’s head fell back in blissful surrender.

Rupert lost himself in the taste and scent of his wife. His tongue tasted and teased her essence from her. His fingers danced across her labia entering her wet channel to stroke once or twice before returning to massage her labia major and minor. Occasionally, a fingertip ghosted across her clitoris before abandoning the bundle of nerves.

Her repeated cries of ‘please…oh yes…more’ filled his ears. He used his knowledge of her body to tease her. Short flicks of his tongue against her clitoris that changed to broad swipes offered her no relief. His lips kissed her labia minor; his teeth nibbled her labia major pain and pleasure so closely mingled that each were indistinguishable from the other. He forced her body to soar higher and higher all the while keeping her from falling into the sweet abyss.

“Please…please…Rupert,” she begged as her body strained for release. “Please….please…,” she continued to beg, her breath coming in short gasps, her hips lifting off the bed only to be forced back down by Rupert’s strong grip. Tossing her head side to side, Clarisse begged and cried her voice rising in volume. When she thought she could no longer stand the sweet torture she felt Rupert swipe his tongue across her clitoris, his finger entering her, curling upwards to massage inside her. Ecstasy exploded within her, her body bowing in response and she screamed, “RUPERT!

Emerging from her sexual haze Clarisse looked up into the loving gaze of her husband. Reaching up Clarisse captured his lips in a kiss. She moaned as she tasted herself on his lips. As she kissed him she felt his rock hard arousal next to her thigh. He had removed his pants, her stockings, garter and shoes while she recovered. Determined to repay him for his teasing, she pushed at him forcing him to fall to the side. She clambered on top of him, sitting astride his abdomen before capturing his lips once more. Clarisse kissed him, tasting and teasing his mouth as she moved down his stomach, her core leaving a wet trail down his abdomen. She stopped when she felt his arousal bump against her core. Releasing his lips she whispered, “Watch,” as she grabbed him, positioned him against her centre and slowly took him into her body. 

Rupert watched as her body took his erection inside, moaning loudly at the erotic sight of her sinking down onto him. The feel of her slick, wet heat was unbearable and it took all of his self-control not to come at that moment.

“Oh god…so good,” Rupert breathed, placing his hands on her hips to hold her still.

Rupert stared at his wife, his gaze never leaving hers as she slowly began to ride him. The erotic sight of Clarisse as she raised and lowered herself onto him and his answering thrust upwards soon drew his gaze to where they were joined. The sight of his erection disappearing into the warm, moist heat of his wife was rapidly his undoing.

Rupert’s thrusts increased in strength, his hips lifting off the bed in counterpoint to Clarisse’s sinking onto his shaft, his hands digging into her hips to hold her as he thrust into her. The increased tempo and thrusts offered extra stimulation to both lovers and soon Clarisse could feel the tell-tale tightening of her womb and the increased thickening of Rupert’s penis. Slipping her fingers between their bodies, Clarisse rubbed her clitoris stimulating it further.

Seconds later she heard Rupert shout, “Clarisse!”

She felt him erupt inside her before her orgasm engulfed her.

“Rupert!” she screamed, collapsing onto him.

Clarisse felt herself being lifted then laid against the cool sheets. Unable to open her eyes she murmured, “Je t’aime,” before drifting off to sleep. She never even felt the warm cloth clean her or the strong arms pull her into their embrace.

 

~*~*~*~*

 

Rupert yawned loudly. “Je t’aime,” he whispered to his wife before he closed his eyes. His final thought was ‘have to talk to Joseph…paramour’ before he slipped into the arms of Morpheus.

 

 

**  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 7**

 

“Así mojó… so tight… t’adore,” he said thrusting into her. 

“Oh yes….harder… ” He could hear her begging. 

He thrust harder, his hips pistoning into her wet channel. He could feel her begin to tighten around him; reaching between their bodies his fingers settled on her clitoris. Rubbing the bundle of nerves he drove into her, feeling her walls squeeze his shaft as she came. He followed immediately, her name answering the cry of his own. 

“Joseph!” 

“Clarisse!” 

Joseph jolted awake, his breath coming in quick gasps, his stomach covered with evidence of his dream. 

“Dammit,” he swore as his head fell back onto the pillow. “This is ridiculous,” he murmured grabbing the sheet to wipe his stomach off. Standing, Joseph stripped his bed, tossing the sheets onto the floor before padding across his suite to the bathroom. 

This was the third time this week he woke to wet sheets and body and it wasn’t even Tuesday! Flipping the light on Joseph stared at his reflection in the mirror. 

“Get a grip old man,” he muttered to himself as he started his morning routine. He hadn’t had this many wet dreams since he was a teenager. Now, in the past two weeks he had more wet dreams than he could remember and each one was exactly the same! 

“You have to forget,” he mumbled around his toothbrush. “Forget what you saw,” he told himself, rinsing his mouth. “Forget it completely,” he said. Looking at his reflection he could knew the likelihood of forgetting that brief moment was impossible, turning away to ready the shower. 

He adjusted the shower taps before stepping in, allowing the hot water to soothe him. Grabbing the shower gel and cloth he washed, mentally reviewing his schedule. He had a meeting with His Majesty this morning and was accompanying Her Majesty on… the thought of the Queen caused his shaft to thicken and unconsciously his hand drifted to his growing erection. As his thoughts were taken over by the image of his Queen… _of his Clarisse_ … wearing nothing but garter, stockings and heels Joseph massaged and stroked his erection. The light from the bedroom had created soft shadows across her body. As she walked across the bedroom her hips swayed seductively and her breasts moved sensually in counterpoint to her stride. From his vantage point Joseph could see the soft light glistening off her curls… _he licked his lips at the thought of how she would taste…his hand stroking his erection faster._

He remembered how she had caressed her full breasts… _he pulled and stroked himself faster_ … teasing the nipples to stiff peaks before her hand drifted down to her curls… _thrusting harder into his hand_ …slipping her fingers between her legs before bringing them back up to taste herself… _’so close…yes…’_ then repeating the action twice… _locking his knees_ … more before… _’oh yes…’_ sucking her fingers into her mouth … _right there…  
_

”Oh god,” he groaned as his release mingled with the hot water, disappearing down the drain. 

“Mierda!” he cursed, suddenly comprehending the implication of his recent actions. He slammed his fist into the tile, sliding down the wall to the shower floor, his head tilted back as the water washed over him, his thoughts in turmoil. 

 

~*~*~*~*

 

The security meeting was finished and Joseph noted the schedule changes for the upcoming week. Checking his watch he saw that he had about thirty minutes before his meeting with His Majesty. With coffee in hand Joseph stood looking out the security office window, his attention taken by his thoughts rather than the view afforded him. He was attracted to her. Hell, any man regardless of sexual preference would be attracted to her. There was something about her that made every man sit up and take notice. To some it was her physical appearance, to others it was her bearing, for others it was her caring nature and still others found themselves enamoured at her effortless ability to make you feel like the most important person in the world. 

For him it was all these things and more. 

Yes, he was attracted to her physically. Her hair, her eyes, her mouth, her breasts…

God, her breasts were incredible! 

He loved her breasts! 

Hell, he was a man. 

He was hot-wired to find breasts incredibly appealing. Give him a set of breasts and he could occupy himself for hours! 

The idea of suckling from her breasts, to taste their soft skin, to tease and tongue her nipples until they were pebbled and erect enthralled him. 

Then there were her legs…her hips…her ass… 

“Enough!” he muttered, shifting slightly to adjust himself. He didn’t need to walk around the palace with an erection, especially when he was meeting His Majesty in twenty minutes. 

He needed to deal with this. 

Hell, he had fantasized about her before. Especially after seeing her in some of her gowns or when catching her and His Majesty _in flagrante delicto_ , but this was the first time he had consciously masturbated to the fantasy of her. And therein lay his problem. 

Not his attraction. 

He had been dealing with that for over fourteen years! He could deal with that with his eyes closed. Although now every time he closed his eyes all he could see was the image from two weeks ago. 

No, his problem now was what to do about his actions. 

He had crossed that invisible line in the sand that he had drawn for himself all those years ago and now he didn’t know if he could or wanted to cross back to the other side.  He also knew that he couldn’t just seduce her, bed her for however long it took to get her out of his system then continue as before. 

That course of action wouldn’t work this time. The reasons why were many. He mentally ticked off each one. 

She is the Queen. _Obviously._

She is the wife of the King. _Again, obviously._

She is married. _He avoided married women. Too much hassle._

She is his employer. _Granted, he had slept with employers before but never when he was in charge._

She is a mother. _Okay, that wasn’t a very good reason. Scratch that one._

She is a grandmother. _Estúpido_ _! Let’s try again._

She is the wife of his friend. _Good reason! He never slept with friend’s wives. No matter how much their wives wanted him too!_

She is his responsibility. _Exactly! And he never shirked his responsibilities._

She is … she is… “The love of my life,” he whispered. 

Stunned at his revelation, Joe stumbled back into his chair “ _¡Jodame!_ Estoy enamorado de ella. Raising his eyes to the ceiling he whispered, “Dios mio, now what do I do?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 8**

Joseph walked into the office of His Majesty, his outward appearance giving no indication of his mental state. His face wore his customary expressionless façade, his gaze alert but with no emotion radiating in his eyes. Unless you looked closely and knew the man extremely well. Then you would see the slight hint of apprehension residing in his gaze as he entered the office. 

“Good morning Joseph,” greeted His Majesty from behind his desk, waving his hand to one of the chairs in front of the desk. 

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” replied Joseph, taking the seat indicated. 

Joseph remained quiet as His Majesty continued to sign documents before handing them to Gerard, his secretary. With dramatic pen flair and a sigh of relief the last document was signed and handed to Gerard. 

“Gerard, I’ll have no more need for you today. After you finish filing those, you are to take the rest of the day off,” Rupert ordered. 

“But Sir,” Gerard began. 

“No buts Gerard,” admonished Rupert, “the rest of the day. And don’t think I won’t check,” he added smiling. 

Gerard smiled in return before replying. “Yes, Sir. If you will excuse me Your Majesty. Joseph,” he said before exiting. 

Rupert acknowledged his departure with a brief nod before turning his attention to Joseph. 

“Joseph, as I am going to require your company for most of the day I have informed Her Majesty that you will be unable to provide personal protection for her today.” 

Rupert didn’t miss the split second look of surprise on Joseph’s face before it settled into his customary façade. Rupert continued, “I am sure the substitute that you will assign will be satisfactory.” 

“Are there any other changes, Sir?” Joseph asked, troubled at this sudden change in schedule. 

“Not that I know about. Is there a problem, Joseph?” asked Rupert. 

“No Sir,” Joseph answered. “Not a problem. I just wish I had been informed earlier Sir,” Joseph stated, his words coloured with his unspoken admonishment. 

Rupert threw his head back in laughter at Joseph’s response. “I’m sorry Joe,” chuckled Rupert, “I know how you hate having monkey wrenches thrown into your schedules. I promise next time I will give you more warning.” 

Rupert became serious. “Make your necessary adjustments Joe, and then meet me at the stables, dressed, ready to ride, in twenty minutes,” he ordered as he stood. 

“Yes Sir,” answered Joe. He watched as His Majesty exited before following.

  

**~*~*~*~***

  
 

Dressed in equestrian apparel in his trademark black Joseph arrived at the stables ten minutes prior. After checking both mounts and assuring himself that all was correct Joseph, along with Tomas, the stable master, led both horses out to await His Majesty. 

“Good morning Tomas,” His Majesty greeted. “Joseph.” 

“Good morning Your Majesty,” the men greeted. Tomas placed the items handed to him in the saddle bags of His Majesty’s mount; watched as both men mounted, adjusted their stirrups before urging their mounts into a slow trot. Soon the two were out of sight. 

Joseph enjoyed riding. It was one of the pleasures of living at the palace. As he and His Majesty rode through the Home woods Joseph wondered exactly what the King wanted to speak to him about. He knew the reason for this ride was to insure complete privacy. But what would the King need to speak to him about that required complete privacy?  After an hour of riding Rupert reigned in his horse, slowing to a walk to cool him down before stopping completely. He dismounted and secured his horse waiting for Joseph to do the same. Rupert removed a flask, a book and a small bag from his saddle bags before walking over to sit under a large oak. He watched as Joseph surveyed the area for danger. 

_‘Always alert, old friend,’_ Rupert thought. 

“Joseph, come sit,” said Rupert, indicating the space next to him. 

Joseph walked over and sat. Once Joseph was seated Rupert picked up and opened the flask, the tell-tale aroma of a single malt scotch filling the air. Rupert took a healthy swig and handed it to Joseph. Joseph accepted the flask taking a small swallow before he handed it back. He was surprised when His Majesty took another deep swallow before closing the flask and laying it next to him. Normally His Majesty didn’t drink this early. 

_‘Something is bothering him,_ ’ thought Joseph. 

Silence reigned between the two men for a few minutes until Rupert finally spoke. 

“Joseph, what do you know of Genovian history?” he asked. 

“I would have to say more than the average citizen,” Joseph answered. 

“Hmm,” Rupert responded. “And what do you know of Renaldi family history?” 

“Again, probably more than the average citizen,” Joseph answered. “Your Majesty, may I ask why you are asking?” 

Rupert ran his hand over the slim leather bound book that lay in his lap. He wasn’t sure how to answer Joseph’s question without revealing too much. He was bound by tradition and law. He could not tell Joseph exactly what he was requesting until Joseph read the diaries. Upon his reading of the diaries Rupert was free to offer, only once, the position of _regina patronus quod paramour._ If Joseph refused, he would be killed. His death would be made to look like the result of a failed assassination attempt on a member of the Royal family. Rupert would be required to order his death by decree, signed and sealed with the royal seal and the royal target would be the Queen. 

_‘Dammed tradition,’_ Rupert silently cursed. 

While he knew the reasons behind making the Queen the target he wasn’t happy about the idea of placing his wife in possible danger. _‘Although if Joseph agrees the point will be moot, but if he doesn’t…’_ The thought made Rupert’s stomach clench in fear. 

Tradition and law stated that Joseph would never know the ramifications of his refusal. 

But if he accepted then the formal ceremony to install him as _regina patronus quod paramour_ would take place in front of the Archbishop. The ring of office would be presented to him and his rank would be the highest in Genovia. Only the reigning King or Queen would rank higher. Until Joseph accepted Rupert could not mention the position by name nor give details of it. Everything that Joseph learned would be from the diaries. 

Rupert took a deep breath before answering. “I cannot tell you why I am asking. Suffice to say that I am bound by the law and tradition. What I can tell you is this book and what is contained in this bag will give you the answers that you seek. After you have read what is required I will make one request of you. Your decision will decide your future.” 

Placing the book and bag in Joseph’s hands Rupert stood. When Joseph stood Rupert grasped his shoulders tightly. 

“What I will ask I ask as a friend, Joseph. Not as your king but as your friend. Remember that,” Rupert said before releasing him. Picking up the flask Rupert took another drink and walked to his horse, mounting he waited. 

Joseph stared at the book and bag, thousands of questions running through his mind. He then looked at his King. The king’s face betrayed nothing. Joseph knew he would receive no answers from His Majesty, at least not at this moment. Instead, he slipped the book and bag inside his shirt remembering his words about ‘asking as a friend.’ Walking to his horse Joseph mounted. 

Neither man said a word as they rode back to the palace, each absorbed with their own thoughts.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 9**

              

Joseph finally made it back to his suite. He was hot, dusty, tired and irritable. It seemed everyone and everything conspired against him this afternoon to prevent him from discovering the contents of the book and bag the king had given him earlier.  

When he arrived back at the palace the first obstacle he faced was the failure of the camera equipment along the west side of the palace. After checking and running diagnostics on the interior equipment he along with Scott, the new recruit and Anton physically checked each and every wire, connection and plug on the west side of the palace. Joseph had been in the roof crawl space when he received the radio message that Scott had discovered the broken connection. Hot, sweaty and covered in layers of dust Joe had ordered the rewire and ten minutes later the cameras were back up. 

Coming down from the crawl space, Joe had run into Allison, Her Majesty’s secretary, on his way to his suite. He had been informed that Her Majesty wanted to see him immediately. Still clad in his riding outfit and now covered with dust and dirt Joe had told Allison that he would be there as soon as he changed. 

“Joe, you don’t have time to change,” Allison said. “She wants to see you now!” 

“Allison, look at me. I can’t appear like this,” he waved his hand at his appearance, “to Her Majesty. Give me five minutes.” 

“Joe, we don’t have five minutes,” Allison said, walking away. 

Throwing up his hand in disgust Joe followed Allison muttering, “..can’t wait five minutes..,” as he tried to wipe the worst of the dirt off his shirt and breeches. 

Allison held the office door open for him closing it as soon as he entered. “Your Majesty,” he said, bowing his head in deference. 

“Joseph!” Clarisse’s exclamation of surprise brought Joseph’s head up quickly. The surprised smile on her face, coupled with the afternoon sun behind her caused Joe’s breath to catch. It took all his self-control not to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. 

_'Shit, shit, shit, shit..,'_ he kept repeating silently as he tried to control his body’s reaction to her. This was the first time he has been alone with her since two weeks ago. For the past two weeks His Majesty had always been present when he was with her. Now he was alone with her in her office, dressed in riding breeches that left little to the imagination and all he could think about was how beautiful she looked.

He was screwed! 

“I apologize, Your Majesty, for my appearance. I was repairing the cameras on the west side of the palace,” Joe explained. 

“In your riding clothes?” Clarisse asked, smiling. 

“Yes Ma’am. That was after I accompanied His Majesty on a ride,” Joseph explained. 

“Hmm, I see,” Clarisse said, walking around the desk to the other side, leaning against it as she continued to speak, “so that was the reason you were unable to accompany me this morning.” 

“Yes Ma’am. His Majesty required my presence this morning,” he explained. “I wasn’t informed of any unusual happenings at your meeting this morning, Your Majesty. Did something occur that I should be aware of? Did my men not execute their duties properly?” Joseph asked. 

_‘If they screwed up they will wish they had never been born,’_ Joe swore silently, his temper rising. _‘If she was in any danger…’_

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft hand to his cheek. “No Joseph, nothing occurred. I just missed you,” Clarisse said cupping his cheek tenderly while looking into his eyes. 

Joseph could drown in her eyes. The heat from her hand was branding him!  He could feel his body tightening in response to her look, her touch and her scent. He unconsciously leaned into her caress, his head turning, ready to place a soft kiss on her hand. Realising what he was about to do he pulled away slightly. 

The slight flicker of pain in her eyes as he pulled away forced him to capture her hand, bringing it to his lips. Placing a soft kiss on the back of her hand he bowed, flashed a devilish grin and said, “My apologies, Your Majesty. Next time His Majesty requests my presence I will simply inform that I will be unable to accompany him due to Her Majesty’s preference that I remain always at her side. I am sure he will understand.” 

Clarisse tossed her head back, her laughter filling the room. “Joseph you are incorrigible!” she said as she cupped his cheek once more. Releasing him she walked and sat once more at her desk. 

Joseph could feel his heart hammering as his blood raced through his veins. He could feel his shaft filling and was surprised that his erection wasn’t yet apparent. Riding breeches were not known for their ability to conceal. He knew if he didn’t leave soon, Her Majesty would get an eyeful. Taking a deep breath, to try to reign in his body’s reactions Joseph asked, “Was there something else you needed Your Majesty?” 

He really needed to get out of here! 

Clarisse looked at Joseph, her gaze soft. “No Joseph, nothing else. I just missed your company,” she said, dropping her gaze to the papers on her desk. 

Clarisse silently admonished herself. _‘You are happily married Clarisse Renaldi. You shouldn’t be missing anyone’s company but your husbands. It is wrong to feel this way about Joseph!’_ But Clarisse knew that even happily married and in love with Rupert there was something about Joseph that made her feel wonderful and different. 

“As I did yours,” Joseph replied softly, adding, “If there is nothing else I need to go and..” he indicated with a wave of his hand his appearance. _‘Just keep it together for a bit longer, old man!’_

“Yes Joseph,” replied Clarisse, “that might be a good idea. You do look a bit…” 

“Dishevelled?” Joe supplied. ‘And hard,’ he added silently. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of messy…err…dusty,” answered Clarisse, smiling. 

Joseph smiled in return. “Messy… dusty. Same thing. If you will excuse me, Your Majesty. Until later,” he said turning to leave. 

Clarisse’s breath caught at the view that Joseph afforded her as he left. She released the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding as he closed the door, licking her lips in appreciation. 

Deciding it was time to take a break, as she had nothing pressing Clarisse wondered if Rupert was still dressed in his riding attire. “I think I should go and find out,” she whispered as she left her office in search of her husband. 

 

~*~*~*~*

  

Joseph closed the door to his suite before leaning against the door. He was tired, hot, dirty, dusty and pissed! Removing the book and bag from his shirt he placed them on the sitting room table for later. 

“Dammed idiots…couldn’t find their heads with both hands and a flashlight,” Joseph swore as he pulled off his shirt, walking into his bedroom.  “Not one has the sense to...umph..,” Joe grunted as he removed first one boot then the other. “…retrain the whole… de idiotas…por que ellos…,” he continued to swear as he finished undressing. 

Naked, Joe entered his bathroom turning the shower on before stepping in. Quickly showering, he dried off before grabbing a pair of cotton pants to wear deciding against a shirt at the moment. He would put one on only if he had to go somewhere. And considering the only place he would probably be going would be to the kitchens later to raid the refrigerator he wouldn’t need a shirt for a while yet. 

And unless something happened he was free for the rest of the evening. “Nothing better happen,” he said aloud, still irritated at his force. 

There were times whem he felt like the father to thirty plus 5 year olds rather than the Royal Head of Security in charge of thirty plus highly trained and intelligent men and women. Joseph sometimes wondered if he wouldn’t be better off if he replaced the whole lot with teenagers.  “At least then they would have an excuse for their whinging!” he said as he walked into his sitting room. Grabbing a bottle of juice from the mini-fridge behind the bar, Joseph sat down on the sofa before reaching for the leather bound book and small bag that he was given this morning.  Placing his feet up on the sofa, Joe took a quick swallow of juice, placed it on the side table near his head and settled in to discover exactly what secrets this book held and what His Majesty was going to request of him.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 10**

 

_Greetings Brother,  
_

_You are perhaps wondering why I would refer to you as brother as we are separated not just by blood but also by time. I greet you in this manner because you have been selected to become a member of a privileged group of men that serve the Renaldi blood.  
_

_Who we are, what our purpose and whom we truly serve will be revealed by our words.  
_

_As we are separated by time I know not your individual history but I do know that in choosing you the Renaldi blood has revealed your honour is absolute, your word is irrefutable and your loyalty is staunch.  
_

_These qualities we hold to be most important in your execution of the office that is offered to you by the Renaldi blood. The offer of this office is not undertaken lightly.  
_

_The refusal to accept this position, for whatever reason will not be held against you but know this, to refuse will end your service to the Renaldi blood. The blood offers this position only once, as per_ _Corpus Iurus Civilis_ _.  
_

_Once accepted, only death can end your service. As death is the only obstacle that we who serve have not yet been able to overcome.  
_

_Regard well Brother, the gift that is being bestowed on you and safeguard well its execution. For to serve in this manner is the highest honour the blood can bestow.  
_

_Regards and safe keeping,  
_

_Frederick Jacques_

_2 nd Margrave of Delkson   
_

Joseph turned the page and continued reading.

_My name is Frederick Jacques and I hold the title of 2 nd Margrave of Delkson. But it is neither my title nor my lands that I put in writing in this volume. For the former and latter are part of public record.  
_

_What I record here is the history of my service to the Renaldi blood and the office bestowed upon me by our beloved King Chevelair II in accordance with the laws of Corpus Iurus Civilis, Lax Salica, and the ancient laws of Aquitani._

_As you are the possessor of this first volume it is my duty to explain the intricacies of the office being offered to you and its rites.  
_

_Under these edicts the bloodline of the house of Genovia holds the right to appoint ‘regina patronus.’ Once offered, accepted and sworn as first title of ‘regina patronus’ the blood bestows the secondary title of ‘quod paramour’.  
_

_Each of these titles accompany a strict rite that must be overseen by the highest ranking religious authority of Genovia.  
_

_Before I continue with the explanation of the titles and the rites that accompany, you should have received a small bag along with this volume.  
_

_Open the bag and remove the contents.  
_

Joseph put the book down on his lap and reached for the small bag. He removed the contents laying them on his lap before resuming his reading.

_The first item that should be in your possession is an intricate key with a small crown on its bow.  
_

Joseph picked up the key to look at it. ‘Intricate and crown,’ he noted. Putting it down he continued to read. _  
_

_…this key will open the library that houses the diaries written by your predecessors. These diaries will contain information that is vital to you.  
_

_But be forewarned. Guard well these volumes for their secrets are not for public examination. Only those appointed and certain members of the blood have access to these volumes.  
_

_Along with the key you should be in possession of a leather wrapped object measuring 4 inches round. This is the mark of office that will brand you as ‘regina patronus quod paramour’…  
_

Joseph opened the leather covered object stunned at the beauty and design of the piece. While intricate in its design it was light weight. He judged it to weigh less than 50 grams. Turning it over he saw two small slots on its back, almost as if something slid into them to allow it to be held; turning it face forward he realized what the book meant when it mentioned, ‘mark and brand’.

“It’s a brand,’ he said amazed. His fingers travelled over it reverently. The Genovian royal crest was in the centre; on the outer edges there were roses, jasmine and what looked like rosemary surrounded by a circle of constellations. Which ones he wasn’t sure but the craftsmanship was amazing!

Carefully rewrapping it, he placed it back in the bag along with the key. He would have to get a chain to place the key on, this way he could wear it around his neck for safekeeping. The bag he would store in his personal safe until it was needed. _  
_

_Guard well these items, brother, for they are what bind all that have gone before with all that come after.  
_

_A key will do you no good without a door to unlock it. The location of the library is in the oldest vaults under the palace. As you are most likely a member of the royal household if not in charge of the safety of the Royal Family then you are familiar with the vaults and can easily discern which are the oldest.  
_

Joseph’s eyebrows rose at the implication that he was not the first Royal Head of Security to be made aware of this position or offered it.

_You must read all that is housed in the library before accepting this office. To accept this office without being aware of its history is tantamount to walking into battle with no armaments. It is foolish and will result in grievous injury or death.  
_

_You cannot accept this office without being intimately familiar with its history.  
_

_Heed well this warning, my brother.  
_

_Now that I have given and explained the key and mark of the office, explanations of the rites that you must undergo are required._

_As I mentioned prior there are two rites that must be performed after your acceptance of ‘regina patronus quod paramour’.  
_

_The first rite consists of two parts. The title bestowed on you will be that of ‘regina patronus.’  
_

_The first part is your oath of acceptance to be avowed in front of the King and the highest religious authority of Genovia. For three days prior to the oath you will be in seclusion. The only contact you will have with the outside world will be through the small opening in a cell door. Through this you will receive, three times a day, a jug of wine and a loaf of bread. On the fourth day you will allowed to bathe, dress and be escorted to the sanctuary of the cathedral where your oath will be given.  
_

_The second part is the bestowing of your mark of office in the form of the brand that was given to you. This brand will be heated then seared onto the left back of your shoulder. It is an indelible sign of your acceptance of this office.  
_

Joe flinched at the thought of the branding. _  
_

_After this you will again be placed in seclusion. During this time of seclusion you will be allowed no clothing. The only drink and food you will be given will be wine laced with herbs and bread.  
_

_The wine will be drugged brother but you must drink it!  
_

“Like hell I’ll drink drugged wine,” Joe muttered continuing to read.

_If you do not then the second title of ‘quod paramour’ cannot and will not be bestowed.  
_

“What! But why?” wondered Joe. _  
_

_Every day you will be bathed and massaged with scented oils. Every day you will be questioned. You must answer all the questions presented to you. The wine will not allow you to dissemble. On the fourth day She will be brought to you.  
_

_You will appear before her without obstruction.  
_

_She will see you free from what dims.  
_

_If She finds your body seemly, your countenance attractive and your manner agreeable, She will have three days to accept you as ‘quod paramour’. But if She denies you or fails to reach a decision your life is forfeit.  
_

_Your manner of death will be slow and torturous.  
_

_Your name and your familial line will be stricken from the memory of the land.  
_

_The Aquitani law demands this of the Blood.  
_

_But if She accepts you, your service begins and with it the recording of said service.  
_

_As stated before this office is not given or taken lightly.  
_

_Decide well, brother, for your future depends on it.  
_

Joe closed the book stunned.

His life, his very future depended on not only his acceptance of this offer- he was intelligent enough to read between the lines- he knew the line ‘ _will end your service to the Renaldi blood’_ meant his life would end should he refuse this offer- but also Her acceptance of him.

He would be a fool not to accept this office. But he also knew that he needed to know as much about this position as possible before he formally accepted.

He would heed the warning of his predecessor and read everything stored in the library.

Knowledge was power and in this instance nothing could be truer.

Once he learned everything he would approach the King and accept the offer of _regina patronus._

Nothing about the _regina patronus_ intimidated him- not the oath, the rites nor the branding.

The _quod paramour o_ n the other hand not only intimidated him but terrified him.

What if She refused him? He wasn’t afraid of death. He had faced death often enough to be wary of it but never afraid of it. It was how vulnerable he would be before her. Physically he knew she found him attractive. He had seen her appreciative glances. He wasn’t blind. It was the emotional side that concerned him. The idea of trusting someone with his heart and soul petrified him.

Could he lay his heart at her feet and trust that she would care for it?  Did she even want to?

That is what scared him- the idea that she would refuse him and tear his heart and soul asunder. A slow and tortuous death would be a welcome relief from the unrelenting pain of her refusal.

Joe rested his head against the back of the couch deep in thought. Finally sitting up, Joe picked up the book and bag. Opening his wall safe he placed the both items inside, removing the key, before closing the safe.

With key in hand, Joe grabbed a t-shirt, his radio and slipped on his runners before leaving his suite.

It was time to find the library.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 11**

The vaults were an unexpected surprise to most visitors to the palace. When most first visited the vaults they were prepared for damp, dark and gloomy with flaming torches flickering along the walls. What they encountered instead was a large, airy, well-lit corridor with equally well-lit rooms spaced evenly along that corridor. The arches of granite and marble reinforced the natural stone ceiling and doorways.

Each room was secured by either a heavy steel or titanium door; titanium for the newer vaults, steel for the older vaults. The locking mechanisms for the rooms ranged from heavy security bolts that opened with specific keys on the older vaults to state of the art locking mechanism on the newer ones. Inside the vaults the items stored were often behind secured display cases or hung on the walls. In some instances, with books they were housed as if in a public library with a few behind lock and key.

The vaults had originally been natural caves located deep beneath the palace. Over the centuries the Genovian Crown had expanded them, reinforcing their natural high ceilings with granite and marble. The vaults maintained a constant temperature of 55 to 65 degrees and this made them ideal for storage of everything from wine to art to books.

Joe swiped his card, keyed in his access number and opened the large reinforced gate that blocked the only entrance to the vaults. Access to the vaults was heavily restricted- the Royal Family, Royal Head of Security, Royal Wine Steward, and the Royal Curator of Antiquities were the only ones who had unrestricted access. Everyone else was required to be accompanied by at least two members of security and everyone exiting was subject to searching. After all the most items housed here in the vaults were priceless. Occasionally, the vaults were open to the public and during those rare times the public was invited to enjoy the immense collection of artefacts that the Royal Family possessed.

Joe walked down the well-lit corridor in the direction of the oldest vaults. He hadn’t been down this far in years and vaguely recalled that each door had a specific motif engraved on it. He wasn’t sure exactly which door he was looking for. He pulled the key out of pocket and stared at it. The crown on the key’s bow triggered a memory for him. Moving further down the corridor Joe came to a stop in front of one of the oldest rooms in the vaults. Gently placing the key in the small lock Joe turned the key slowly surprised when the lock gave way smoothly. Joe grabbed the handle and easily pulled the heavy steel door open. _‘Micah must have had these doors tended to,’_ Joe thought as he entered. The light from the corridor barely illuminated the room. Joe walked in feeling along the wall to the left of the door he discovered the dimmer switch and slowly turned it. He was surprised at the sight that greeted him.

Inside the room the walls were covered floor to ceiling with bookcases. In between the cases were paintings of men from various times in history. Joe could only surmise that these were his predecessors- his brothers- the previous _regina patronus quod paramours_. Most were not what would be considered good-looking; in fact, there were two that looked as if they had been on the receiving end of one too many broken noses. But the command and authority that radiated from their likenesses was unmistakable.

“Evidently, good looks are not a requirement for this position,” he said, pleased at the discovery. Joe knew he wasn’t what would be considered a ‘pretty boy’. Hell, he could barely be referred to as handsome. Granted the whole package that constituted him wasn’t bad but he knew if he had to rely on just looks he would be out of luck!

On the case shelves were row upon row of leather bound volumes interspersed with objets d’art. In front of one wall of cases sat, what appeared to be, a Louis XIV desk with a high backed leather chair tucked into it. To the right of the desk situated closer to the door sat two high-backed leather wing chairs with a low table, complete with lamp between them. The floor was covered with an Aubusson rug in deep reds, browns and blues. The whole room evoked a very masculine feel and Joe felt instantly at ease here.

Joe explored the room. On the shelves behind the desk he found a stack of diaries, each stamped with the mark of the _regina patronus quod paramour._ Opening one he discovered it to be blank but well-made with thick paper that he was sure was acid-free. Placing it back onto the stack, Joe continued to move around the room inspecting the shelves, the paintings and the objets d’art. A small door caught his eye between two bookcases. Opening it he was surprised to find a small sleeping room furnished with a bed, a waist high long table, and low dresser with an en suite bath attached.

 _‘Interesting,’_ he thought.

Joe re-entered the main room looking around once more. From the positioning of the paintings Joe surmised that each bookcase contained the diaries of the subject of the painting. He knew that there was no way he could read every single diary from every single man – it would take years! And he didn’t think he had years; His Majesty would not wait that long. So… there had to be either an anthology of the diaries of each or a list of the most important diaries.

“Let’s see if I am right,” Joe murmured as he moved across the room.  

Joe stopped at the painting of who he assumed was Fredrick Jacques. His dress indicated that he probably lived sometime in the 1500’s. Looking at his face Joe wondered exactly what type of man was this first  _regina patronus quod paramour._

 _‘How much can I learn about a man from a few words?’_ Joe wondered.

Joe vaguely recalled what King Chevelair II’s wife looked like- dark hair, dark eyes, and petite. If he wasn’t mistaken there was a painting of her with the king here in the vaults. Later he would have to find it and see why Chevelair went to such lengths to protect her and the bloodline but for now he needed to find either an anthology or list that would aid him. Joe climbed the short ladder to see the top shelf, his finger tracing the spines looking for a clue. Not finding anything on the first shelf, Joe continued to the second and finally to the third. Halfway through the third shelf he finally discovered what he was looking for. A small volume was tucked between two larger ones, pulling it out Joe opened it.  Inside was a list of numbers and corresponding dates. Each number and date had a single word behind it. He also noted that the dates covered a large expanse of time and that they only filled half the book. Armed with his discovery Joe began pulling down corresponding volumes. Soon he had three diaries sitting on the desk. Sitting he opened the first diary going to the corresponding date that was listed. Joe promised himself that eventually he would read each and every entry in every diary but right now he didn’t have the time.

He needed to learn and learn quickly.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 12**

 

**_18 September 1506_ ** _  
_

_I have failed my King.  
_

_My promise to him on his deathbed has been broken.  
_

_The von Trokens and their ilk, of which Mabrey and Delacroix are part, have managed to seize Her Majesty, the Princes and the Princess and are, at this moment heading to the court of Louis XII.  
_

_When they reach the French court Her Majesty is sure to be forced to either abdicate in favour of one of the von Trokens or to marry one of the French courtiers. The von Trokens will stop at nothing to gain the throne even murdering the young Princes and Princess.  
_

_Unless we can secure their release the future of Genovia is in peril.  
_

_I, along with ten of my men, am in pursuit of the Von Trokens, Her Majesty and Their Highnesses.  
_

_We have to overtake them at the Garonne River at Toulouse. If we do not the chances of rescue are nil. We cannot fail!  
_

_F. Jacques_

**_26 September 1506_ ** _  
_

_If I could relive these past days I would. But I cannot and therefore must content myself with the knowledge that we succeeded in our mission. But the price of our success was far greater than I hoped to pay.  
_

_I speak in riddles but my only excuse is that my exhaustion is clouding my thoughts. Please bear with me as I relate our success and my failure.  
_

_Travelling quickly and lightly over routes that are known only to bandits and gypsies we managed to overtake and pass the von Trokens, their abettors, their guards and the Royal Family. We arrived two full days ahead of them outside the town of Toulouse and quickly devised a plan of rescue.  
_

_Pascal, Juan and Michael stationed themselves along the road in the guise of monks while I and the rest of my men frequented the taverns as nothing more than ill-bred soldiers looking for strong drink and women to warm our beds.  
_

_One tavern alone, The Merry Jackanape, was the only one in Toulouse close enough to the river so therefore we were sure that this would be the destination of our enemy.  
_

_We took to spending our time drinking, whoring and gambling there while we waited. By the time our adversaries arrived we had gained the reputation as being rough, rowdy and uncouth.  
_

_We were sure that our element of surprise had disappeared after Her Majesty recognized Antony but she made no attempt to engage him and her faux pas was not discovered.  
_

_Luck and the weather seemed to be on our side.  
_

_The von Trokens discovered that the barges to take them north would not be available for two days. This delay gave us ample time to facilitate a rescue. As night fell my men and I became coarser and rowdier going so far as to break into the private dining room that housed the Royal Family and their abductors and causing a ruckus that allowed young Hector to slip a note to Her Majesty.  
_

_After we were ceremoniously tossed out of the dining area we returned to our merriment in the common room. Later after the guards and others had gone to sleep I slipped out of the common room to the upstairs. Exactly which room Her Majesty and the children were being held in was unknown to me. But it seemed my luck held as the room I chose to be the most logical to hold them did indeed.  
_

_When I entered the room I was met with a chamber pot to the head that rendered me unconscious.  
_

_Do not laugh brother; I remind you that you may meet even worse if your Queen ever finds herself in a similar predicament. After regaining consciousness and my wits I was greeted by the three concerned gazes and one irate one.  
_

_I leave you to determine the irate one.  
_

_After informing Her Majesty of our plan I was summarily informed that rescue was not needed nor would be facilitated. When I questioned why I was told that Her Majesty needed to discover who else besides the obvious were involved in the abduction.  
_

_When I told her that the identities of the others involved could be discovered after she and their Royal Highnesses were safe she informed me as Queen her word was law and unless I wanted to be hung for disobedience I would follow her orders.  
_

_To say we argued would be an understatement, if one can term whispering furiously as arguing.  
_

_I finally allowed her to think I relented. Knowing that I could not exit the same way I came in I left via the window. Before my exit I was forced to swear not to attempt a rescue. Rather than argue I lied, ostensibly swearing to no rescue.  
_

_While I know that you think I am the lowest form of scoundrel alive let me assure you that I would have made a deal with the Lucifer himself if it meant the safety of my Queen and her children.  
_

_I informed my men of the Queen’s orders and I then informed them that I was disobeying a direct order and the rescue would happen tonight. None of my men were surprised at this.  
_

_The details of the rescue are not pertinent to this entry but suffice to say that we succeeded in rescuing Her Majesty and the children. While the details of the rescue are not pertinent the events following the rescue are.  
_

_While we had managed to not only rescue, but severely wound and kill a number of the abductors the von Trokens and Mabrey managed to escape harm. As we escaped on horseback shots rang out, as some of the guards were armed with pistols.  
_

_Here is where I failed in my protection.  
_

_One of the shots hit Prince Christoph in the side. We could not stop because of pursuit and I took the boy onto my mount and we continued to ride. By the time we stopped the young prince had lost a fair amount of blood and Her Majesty was livid.  
_

_I ordered Antony and Miguel to ride forward and see if there was not a cottage or settlement nearby where we could rest and tend to the Prince. Throughout this Her Majesty was cleaning the wound with what little water we had and dressing it. When she was done she bade the Princess and Prince to watch their brother and ordered me to attend her.  
_

_Her words were swift and angry. If the prince died I was to be killed. I told her I would gladly give my life for his. This did nothing to lessen her anger.  
_

_Her next words cut me to the core for she informed me that upon our return to Genovia I was to be stripped of my position- no longer would I be ‘regina patronus quod paramour’, my brand was to be cut from my body and my name stricken from the land.  
_

_The pain I felt at these words I cannot describe!  
_

_I could not speak.  
_

_I bowed my head in acceptance and walked back to Their Royal Highnesses.  
_

_Antony and Miguel returned to inform us that they had located a small settlement of Jews and when asked if there was a physician they were informed that Reuel ben Joakim was such.  
_

_Her Majesty ordered Pascal to carry Prince Christoph. At the looks of surprise from Pascal and my men I simply said ‘do as you are ordered’. I was not even allowed to assist Her Majesty up onto her horse, nor was I permitted to assist the children. If my men were curious they didn’t question, they simply followed Her orders.  
_

_I will not go into detail of the recovery of Prince Christoph or of how Reuel ben Joakim and his family joined us. Suffice to say the Prince lives, Master Joakim will soon be ensconced as Royal Physician and I am resigned to my fate.  
_

****

**_19 October 1506_ ** _  
_

_We are back in Genovia. Our return trip took longer due to the recovery of Prince Christoph. He is doing well under the attentions of Master Joakim.  
_

_I write this entry as I sit in the vault cell beneath the Royal Palace.  
_

_Upon our return to the palace Her Majesty ordered my arrest by my men immediately. I was seized, stripped bare to the waist and tied between two posts in the courtyard. I was left there for two days with neither water nor food. Finally I was dragged to the vaults and placed within this cell.  
_

_I was given wine, food, diary and ink.  
_

_I have been in this cell for five days.  
_

_Every day I am brought wine and food. My jailers do not speak with me or me with them. I spend my time recording the rules and rites of the ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ for my brothers and my personal thoughts.  
_

_I wait daily for Her to come and order my judgement to be carried out.  
_

_I am under no illusion that She will not order it. My defiance of her orders, my endangering of her children due to my defiance and my failure to fulfil my vow to my King demands that the judgement be carried out.  
_

_I wish only that she grant me a small boon before she orders my sentence. I wish that she take me to her bed and allow me to fulfil my vow as ‘quod paramour’. To show her the love that I hold for her not as Marguerite Renaldi- Queen of Genovia but as Marguerite, my beloved, my bien-amie.  
_

Joe turned the page but saw nothing more written in this volume. Looking at the next volume and date listed Joe reached for that diary. Finished, he checked the list again grabbing the next diary and continuing.

  

~*~*~*~*~*

 

  ** _8 July 1532_** _  
_

_My Queen is dead.  
_

_My beloved is dead.  
_

_My heart is gone, my soul lost.  
_

_I sit here in this vault cell numb.  
_

_My wife is dead.  
_

_The cell resembles nothing like it did the first time I was in it all those years ago. Twenty-six years ago I occupied this cell awaiting a fate I was sure there was no redemption from. I awaited my death and my dishonour.  
_

_But the heavens must have been listening to my prayers for instead of being dishonoured then killed I was instead released and my boon answered.  
_

_Oh don’t think that my dreams were answered immediately. They were not. For My Queen was stubborn, obstinate and determined. She intended that I learn that it was she who held all the power and I was simply a pawn to her, regardless of my position as ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ or not.  
_

_For three years she teased, taunted and tantalized me; forcing me to watch as she flirted with courtiers, princes and merchants, while negotiating trade agreements with some of the most powerful men in Europe.  
_

_She had me attend her in the bath stating that it was the only time she could spare to speak with me. She offered me glimpses of her body at the same time admonishing me for my looking. She had me instruct her children in the art of warfare and even had me teach her how to handle a dirk.  
_

_When She finally decided that she had had enough play she ordered me into her bed, took her pleasure from my body then laid me aside until she had need of me again.  
_

_You probably wonder brother why I allowed her to treat me in this manner. The answer is complicated in its simplicity.  
_

_I love her!  
_

_I am hopelessly in love with her! I can deny her nothing.  
_

_Do not shake your head at me brother because I can guarantee that you will find that ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ comes with one undeniable fact. You will fall in love with your queen. It is inevitable.  
_

_Just as the sun rises and sets, you will fall in love with your queen if you are not already.  
_

_I will not argue the point with you instead I will continue my tale.  
_

_Two years after being taken to her bed, used as stud and set to the side like a well-trained dog I finally snapped. The reasons were part listed above and learning that her Majesty was planning on remarrying as soon as Prince Christoph was crowned in the upcoming year.  
_

_When I heard this I confronted Marguerite, we were alone in her chamber and she didn’t deny it. Instead she proceeded to extol the virtues of her mysterious suitor.  
_

_Brother, let me warn you that women especially queens are devious creatures.  
_

_As she continued to praise her mysterious suitor my ire rose and I lost control. I tossed her onto her bed, and took my pleasure from her while forcing her to experience pleasure, after all for two years I made note of what she found pleasurable all the while telling her that no man but I would be husband to her.  
_

_When I finally regained my senses I realised that instead of being angry or shouting for the guards she was smiling at me. She then proceeded to inform me that it took me long enough to declare my love for her and while she enjoyed our rather energetic lovemaking she would enjoy a much slower pace next time.  
_

_I was dumbfounded. It seemed that I was the only man she wanted. We married two months after Christoph was crowned.  
_

_And now she is dead.  
_

_And I am alone once more.  
_

****

**_2 August 1532_ **

_This will be my last entry into my diary. My time on this earth is up and I am ready to join my beloved in heaven.  
_

_A few words of wisdom brother from the first ‘regina patronus quod paramour’:  
_

_Remember the law, ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ can only be offered once. To accept or not is your decision.  
_

_Be wary of the von Trokens and their ilk. This includes the family Mabrey and Delacroix. Never allow them to become intimate friends with the Royal Family.  
_

_Be wary of the Lords of Genovia. They often think with their purse strings rather than their love of Genovia.  
_

_Carry out the duties of your position even if it means your death and dishonour. Nothing is more important than the Renaldi bloodline. Protect it at all costs!  
_

_Your honour, your word, and your loyalty are to the blood. Never forget- protect the blood at all costs!  
_

_Love your Queen. To do otherwise will be impossible.  
_

_Never doubt your position or your Queen’s love. Both are intricately entwined.  
_

_Record your time as ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ for future brothers. We must learn from the past in order to protect the future.  
_

_I bid you adieu my brother, ‘til we meet._

_Frederick Jacques_

_Husband and Regina Patronus Quod Paramour of Dowager Queen Marguerite Renaldi-Delkson_

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Joe closed the diary sitting back in the chair. He wasn’t sure what to make of the entries he had read. Most of the accounts were daily everyday life interspersed with observations about those Jacques had encountered.  He did notice that many of the leading families of Genovia were referred to in these first accounts and trusted families seemed to be the same today as in the past. There was more to these entries than meets the eye but Joe found that in his exhaustion he wasn’t able to discern exactly what. Deciding to sleep on what he learned tonight, Joe replaced all the diaries along with the volume list.  

Tomorrow night he would read the second set of diaries. But right now he was exhausted and needed sleep. Securing the room he exited it and the vaults, making his way to his suite and bed.  As he walked to his suite he hoped with luck tomorrow would be a slow day. None of the family had any outside meetings. He should be able to steal some time away from his day to go to the vaults and do some reading. He certainly did hope so; the sooner he finished reading the sooner he could inform His Majesty of his decision. 

Joe’s last thoughts before he drifted off to sleep were of his queen and a bath.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 13**

 

Alarm and phone ringing jolted Joe awake from a sound sleep. Hitting the alarm button hard Joe grappled for the phone answering it.  

“Speak,” he ordered his voice groggy with sleep. 

“Well, that is certainly a lovely way to be greeted on such a fine morning,” a familiar voice responded. 

“Your Majesty,” answered Joe shocked to hear the Queen’s voice. “I apologize. I didn’t realise it was you,” explained Joe asking, “What may I do for you? Is everything fine?” the concern in his voice evident. 

“First, no apology is necessary,” Her Majesty responded. “I woke you therefore you owe me no apology. Second,” she continued, “everything is fine. The reason I called you is that I find myself in possession of a rather large selection of fine delicacies from Spain and wondered if you would care to join Rupert and I for breakfast.” 

“What type of delicacies are we referring to, Ma’am?” Joe asked, his mouth watering at the possible selections. Food from his homeland was always welcome. It was rare that he had a chance to enjoy it though since the chefs at the palace preferred French influences. 

“There is pan de higo, jamon, Yemana de Santa Teresa, a variety of marmalades, magdalenas, cheeses and coffee,” Her Majesty explained. 

“Café con Leche?” asked Joe, his mouth watering at the thought of a good cup of café cone leche made with Torrefacto coffee. 

“Yes.” 

“Give me five minutes,” said Joe, before hanging up. 

Clarisse look at the buzzing phone in her hand before replacing it on the receiver. “He will be here in five minutes,” she said to her husband. 

“He needs to hurry,” Rupert replied eyeing the pan de higo and the jamon. 

Clarisse laughed as Rupert gazed longingly at the fig cake and ham. “Patience, my dear,” said Clarisse. 

“Patience is for things other than fig cake,” replied Rupert, reaching to break a small piece off the cake to taste. 

Seeing his actions Clarisse warned, “Rupert.” 

“I’m hungry,” whined Rupert. 

“I’m sure you can wait for,” Clarisse looked at the clock on the mantle, “two more minutes.” 

“Hrmpff,” Rupert said leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “I don’t see why I have to wait. I am king…” he muttered, as Clarisse shot him a look of exasperation mixed with resignation that she often used when dealing with their sons. He resigned himself to waiting two more minutes. 

Rupert glanced at the clock, the promised five minutes was up 30 seconds ago and he reached out to cut a large slice of fig cake. 

_‘Joe will just have to deal with not getting the first slice,’_ he thought unashamedly.The arrival of Joe halted his actions and Rupert put the cake knife down. _‘Damm, so close,’_ he thought.  

As the other man sat His Majesty gleefully informed his Head of Security, “You are late by thirty seconds! And because YOU are late and I was not I therefore receive a larger piece of cake,” Rupert informed him smiling and picking up the cake knife once more. 

“That is hardly fair,” Joe argued as he placed his napkin on his lap. “You were here already and I had to travel the whole of the palace to arrive. A journey that was impeded by no less than three maids, two security guards and a flight of stairs that I had to slide down,” he finished blocking the cake knife. 

“That is neither here or there,” countered Rupert. “You were late therefore you forfeit. I get a larger piece!” 

“I protest.” 

“Doesn’t matter. I’m king. Word, law.” 

“Unfair,” Joe countered blocking the cutting of the cake. 

“What part of king did you not understand?” asked Rupert, trying to evade Joe’s hand and cut the cake. 

“All of it..” 

“Insubordinate.” 

“Am not.” 

“Are too.” 

“Am not!” 

“Are too!” 

“Boys!” Both men stopped arguing turning to look at woman across from them, her hand held out, her expression exasperated. “Knife,” she ordered. Surrendering the cake knife they watched as she cut two exact sized slices of fig cake placing each on a plate before passing them to both. 

Each man looked at his piece of cake then at the other’s piece. 

“His piece is bigger than mine,” complained Rupert, gesturing with his plate. 

“She likes me better,” countered Joe, placing his plate down on the table. 

“But I’m her husband therefore my piece should be larger,” Rupert argued, as he glared at the other man, evaluating his chances of stealing the other man’s slice of cake. 

“But I’m her friend,” countered Joe, daring his king to try to take his slice of cake. 

Each man held his fork in hand, guarding his slice of fig cake waiting for the other to attempt some sort of attack. 

“Boys,” Clarisse said, “the pieces are the same size. Now eat your cake and stop arguing.” She rolled her eyes at their sulky ‘yes ‘ma’ams’ and continued to read her report while eating her breakfast, trying to ignore the men’s behaviour. 

Furious whispering was soon heard and Clarisse looked up to see her two men arguing once again, this time over the ham, the cookies and the coffee pot. 

“Honestly, you two are worse than the boys, “she said putting the report down. Both men had the grace to look sheepish at being caught arguing again. 

“It’s not as if there isn’t enough food to feed the both of you,” she added. “Since you can’t seem to be able to enjoy this lovely breakfast without arguing I am forced to leave you both to it and seek more genial company,” Clarisse said, standing. 

Rupert and Joseph both stood in response. Absently, she gave each man a kiss on the cheek, retrieved her reports from her seat and left the morning room. 

“Oh and do try to leave the room still standing when you are finished,” she added before she walked out the door closing it behind her. 

As soon as the door closed each man dove for the food, arguing and talking good-naturedly as they enjoyed their breakfast.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 14  
**

Walking down the vault corridor Joe jauntily swung the small bag that hung from his hand. After the breakfast he enjoyed with Their Majesties, well really with the King since Her Majesty had abandoned the two of them after their arguing over the food… 

He remembered a previous time they had argued over food. The princes were still young and at home and it was they who had discovered their father and Joe arguing over the delicate Genovian almond cookies stuffed with sweetened cheese that were only available at Easter. The two men were jostling and jesting determined to keep the other away from the platter of sweet delicacies. Somehow during the horseplay the two had managed to drop the platter on the floor ruining all the cookies much to the displeasure of Her Majesty. 

The two boys had watched wide-eyed as the two men were chastised. They stood there with heads hung in shame as Clarisse quietly but succinctly read them the riot act. The boys were further shocked when Clarisse had ordered both to the kitchen to apologise to Mrs. Cowt, the housekeeper and Mrs. Varnes the baker. Joe remembered the look on the prince’s faces when Mrs. Varnes ordered both he and the King to help bake a whole new batch of cookies. 

Afterward they weren’t even allowed to have one cookie, not even later at the ball. Although Joe did remember how Rupert had tried to sneak one and was summarily caught. After the look that Clarisse had given Rupert, Joe wasn’t even going to try his luck. 

He waited until the following year. 

…he had met with the security team. Arranged schedules, made minor adjustments before heading to the kitchen to see about having a few sandwiches made with the ham received today, a few slices of fig cake, olives, fruit and coffee. It hadn’t surprised him to find His Majesty in the kitchen eating a ham sandwich, and another slice of fig cake. 

“Mrs. Cowt, don’t let that man have any of my fig cake,” Rupert said, pointing at Joe as he walked into the kitchen. “He is undeserving of it!” 

“Now Your Majesty,” Mrs. Cowt replied, “Joseph is just as deserving as you are of fig cake. It wouldn’t be right to deny the man a food that he loves,” she said smiling. 

“Exactly,” Joe agreed. “Besides pan de higo can only be truly enjoyed by a Spaniard. Of which I am one,” added Joe, grinning at His Majesty before asking if he could have a few sandwiches, and extras to take with him for lunch. Nodding, Mrs. Cowt ordered Michael to prepare the requested items. 

At the interested look from His Majesty Joe said, “I have some research and reading to do today.” Nodding in understanding His Majesty returned to their bantering. 

“Ha!” replied Rupert. “Everyone knows that pan de higo was stolen from Genovia by Spain. It was originally named gateau de figue until Spain pilfered the recipe, the baker and changed the name. So it is only a true Genovian, of which I am, that is able to enjoy the subtle flavour and tastes of fig cake,” the King finished, bowing to the applause from the kitchen staff. 

“Should I remind you that your Grandmother was French, not Genovian, Your Majesty?” Joseph asked, ducking the mock head slap from His Majesty. The kitchen staff smiled at the banter between His Majesty and the Head of Security. 

“Are you two at it again?” a voice asked from the doorway. 

“At what my dear,” Rupert asked walking over to greet his wife with a kiss to the cheek. The kitchen staff smiled at the gesture. 

Accepting the kiss Clarisse responded, “Irritating each other.” 

Rupert and Joe shared a look, grinned and responded, “Yes.” 

Clarisse fought the urge to roll her eyes at the two men and their antics. Instead she asked, “May I have some tea Mrs. Cowt?” as she sat down at the table. 

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Mrs. Cowt said filling the kettle before heating it. Gathering all the tea items she started to prepare a tray. 

“No tray, Mrs. Cowt. I’ll have it here,” Clarisse said. “And do you have any of that poppy seed cake left?” 

“Oh yes ‘Ma’am. Mrs. Varnes just made two new loaves,” said Mrs. Cowt, taking the aforementioned cake out of the cabinet and preparing to slice it. 

Rupert and Joseph shared a look at the mention of their second favourite cake. Both men moved to lean on the table on either side of Clarisse sandwiching her between them. 

“Joseph?” 

“Yes, Your Majesty?” 

“Why do you think that our lovely Queen gets fresh, just-baked poppy seed cake while we have to make do with premade fig cake?” asked Rupert, as he took his wife’s right hand in his, his fingers gently caressing her hand. 

“I don’t know, Sir. But it might be a conspiracy. You know how Staff seems to cater to her every whim,” Joe replied, repeating Rupert’s actions with Clarisse’s left hand, his thumb gently caressing her hand. 

Clarisse kept her gaze straight not bothering to look at either man. Their caresses were playing havoc with her. 

“Hmmm…I think you may be correct, Joseph. It must be a conspiracy,” Rupert said, winking at Mrs. Cowt, who smiled in delight. Rupert dropped his gaze to his wife’s hand gently running his fingertips over the soft skin. “What do you think we should do about it Joe?” He asked looking over at the other man, noting his actions were mirrored by him. 

Joe didn’t answer immediately, appearing deep in thought but secretly relishing the soft skin of Clarisse. “I don’t think there is anything that can be done. We will have to live with the knowledge that Staff loves her more than us,” Joe answered, sighing forlornly. 

Rupert sighed deeply in return. “I think you are correct. Oh well, better to learn it now then later I suppose,” His Majesty said, his face forlorn but his eyes twinkling. 

Michael placed a small lunch bag complete with attached thermos in front of Joe, saying you’re welcome to Joe’s thanks. 

Both men noted Mrs. Cowt had finished slicing and arranging the thick slices of freshly-baked poppy seed cake on a plate. Communicating with just a look the two men waited. Still holding the Queen’s hands they watched as Mrs. Cowt placed the filled plate in front of the Queen. 

By some unspoken signal the two men grabbed a handful of cake, kissed the Queen on the cheek and made their escape to the sound of her delighted but exasperated laughter.

  

~*~*~*~*~*

 

 Joe searched for the volume list for the second set of diaries, finding it on the fourth shelf. The list of volumes were soon pulled from their resting places and stacked on the table. Opening the thermos and pouring himself a hot cup of coffee, Joe settled in to read and learn about the second man to hold the position of _regina patronus quod paramour_. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*

   


**_13 June 1645  
_ **

_My name is Robert McNamara and I am ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ to Her Majesty, Queen Gillian Luciana Renaldi, wife to King Malcolm Sebastian Renaldi, parents of Her Royal Highness Princess Luciana Margaret Orva Renaldi, heir apparent and His Royal Highness Prince Sebastian Jacques William Renaldi.  
_

_My position as ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ will remain after King Malcom and Queen Gillian abdicate next year to their daughter Princess Luciana.  
_

_The princess is to marry in September to Lord Felipe Manteraza. Lord Manteraza will not be co-regent to the new queen. Instead he will simply be consort to Princess Luciana, and any children will be heirs to the throne. Prince Sebastian as younger than his sister will still remain as an heir to the Genovian throne after his future nephews and nieces.  
_

_While the marriage between the Princess and her betrothed is being lauded by most of Genovian titled there are a few, myself included that are not enamoured of Lord Manteraza. The marriage is an arranged one and while neither is in love with the other it is a good political marriage.  
_

_At least I hope it is.  
_

_Manteraza is a devout Catholic, which in itself is not a bad thing. Genovia is religiously tolerant. But it seems that the young Lord is unable to understand that this means that we as a country will not persecute our citizens for their beliefs. Be they Christian, Jew, Muslim or some other religion. His intolerance of anyone not of the Catholic faith is tiresome.  
_

_It takes all my patience not to cuff the man across the head, at times. And because of this intolerance the King, Queen and Princess are extremely reluctant to reveal my exact position within the household.  
_

_Perhaps after the princess and he are married and the man lives in Genovia for a time my position as ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ will be revealed to him.  
_

_Honestly, I dinna see that happening._

**_12 April 1646_ ** _  
_

 

_My Queen is dead.  
_

_Queen Gillian died this day from injuries she received as the result of Lord Manteraza’s attack.  
_

_Her Majesty Queen Luciana is still recovering from the beating her husband gave her and if it had not been for the former Queen’s defence of her daughter I would be burying not only my Gillian but Luciana as well.  
_

_The attack took place while both Malcolm and I were away from the palace inspecting the defences of Pyrus. Even though Genovia is neutral we still must maintain defences for our safety!  
_

_Manteraza had pleaded being ill so did not accompany us on our inspections. Instead he took to his chambers and stayed there. Throughout the day I had a feeling of foreboding but blamed it on this dammed war between the German states and The Holy Roman Empire.  
_

_As the day continued my unease increased until finally I felt I had to return to the palace. Malcolm accompanied me, informing me that he also had an uneasy feeling that would not relent.  
_

_At this we swiftly made our way back to the palace.  
_

_When we arrived we knew immediately that something was wrong. Cameron raced down to us informing us that Manteraza had both Her Majesty and her mother locked in the north tower, the entrance barricaded and they were trying to break the door down at this moment.  
_

_The king and I raced into the palace to the north tower. Between us and three of the men we were able to finally break the door down and enter.  
_

_What greeted us is a sight I willna ever forget.  
_

_On the bed lay Her Majesty, her face bloodied and bruised. Across her lay my Gillian, blood covering her back and side.  
_

_Manteraza stood against the wall a bloodied dagger in his hand. The king checked both his wife and daughter while I went to secure his son-in-law. As I approached him, he began shouting calling Her Majesty an adulterous and whore. He shouted she and her mother were conspiring to pass the son of the devil off as his. He said that he had to beat the sin out of his wife. It was God’s commandment. He then accused me of being Luciana’s lover and that it was my fault that he had to beat his wife constantly.  
_

_The bastard had been beating Her Majesty almost daily! It seemed he thought it was his right to beat her. At this revelation I grabbed him, prepared to beat him to death but he sliced at me with the dagger he held.  
_

_I gutted him.  
_

_And I would do so again gladly!  
_

**_18 February 1647_ **

_Today I married, to my great regret.  
_

**_23 February 1647_ **

_I am now married and consort to Her Majesty Queen Luciana Margaret Orva McNamara-Renaldi.  
_

_It was not my choice to marry Luciana, who is 20 years my junior. I have known her since she was a young girl of five and now feel as if I have married a daughter.  
_

_I married by the command of King Malcolm. My position of ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ was transferred to Queen Luciana on the death of her mother Queen Gillian. After a period of mourning the Lords of Genovia began to demand that Her Majesty remarry.  
_

_At first her father and she scoffed at the demands but the Lords of Genovia made it apparent that if she did not remarry they would force her abdication crowning her brother Sebastian, who cares little for running the country, he prefers his studies, in Luciana’s place.  
_

_At this time Genovia cannot chance any political upheaval that would be sure to result from Luciana’s abdication and Sebastian’s crowning. So she, Sebastian and her father devised a plan that would ensure her continued rule. Their plan was to marry her to someone trusted above all others. That someone was me.  
_

_To further complicate matters the child she had carried was lost. Meaning that there is no heir nor does it appear there will be. Her experiences with Manteraza has her fearing the marriage bed and I have no urge to bed a child albeit a nineteen year old child.  
_

_So brother I am married to a child and although I have sworn to protect her as ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ and her husband, I cannot see this arrangement as anything but a failure.  
_

**_12 February 1648_ **

 

_In a few days I will have been married a year. In that year my life has changed drastically. For the first time in my life I am going to be a father. My wife, my queen, my love is pregnant with my child. In six months there will be a new Renaldi heir to the throne of Genovia.  
_

_How, do you ask, dear brother?  
_

_Well, if you have to ask then your position as ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ will definitely come as a shock to you. I apologize for my humour, my brother. My only excuse is that the news of my fatherhood has addled my brain.  
_

_But back to the how and why of the matter.  
_

_I know that I previously stated that I thought of my wife as but a child. For I had known her since she was just five and therefore in my mind I never allowed myself to view her as anything other than a child. I also thought because of her experiences from her first marriage she would never want to engage in relations.  
_

_What I failed to take into account was the combination of close living, familiarity and natural curiosity.  
_

_During the first few weeks of our marriage we lived together but separately. I slept on a mat on the floor while she slept in bed, with none of her ladies maids being the wiser to our arrangement. I went out of my way to ensure that I never appeared in front of her naked and I had no urge to see her, someone I still viewed as a child nude.  
_

_As the weeks changed to months we became familiar with each other, talking, playing chess, riding together and I slowly started to view her not as a child but as an intelligent woman. But I still had no urge to take her to bed or see her nude. The very idea made me feel like a lecherous old man. And I was sure she had no urge or the desire to have me in her bed.  
_

_What changed you ask, brother?  
_

_I cannot say exactly but as summer turned to autumn the familiarity and ease slowly began to become attraction. I found my gaze lingering on her face and body, my hands almost of their own accord offering soft caresses and slight touches whenever Luciana stood near me.  
_

_I began dreaming of her, of how the sunlight lent her an ethereal shine when it landed on her hair. Of how she smelt of lavender and roses, her soft skin and the spattering of freckles across her nose and how her laughter made that same nose crinkle.  
_

_At first I was sickened at my actions, cursing myself for wanting this child. It mattered not that she was my wife or a woman grown, I still thought of her as a child and the very idea that I would be lusting after her filled me with self-loathing.  
_

_I took to spending more and more hours outside, away from the palace and her. But still she haunted my dreams at night. I am ashamed to say that I availed myself- tried to actually- of the tavern wenches convincing myself that it was nothing more than my lust needing an outlet. When actual fornication presented itself I found myself unwilling to perform. I simply left the wench and drowned my actions in a barrel of ale.  
_

_My self-recrimination and loathing continued until either thanks to interference of Eros or my own inattention I interrupted Her Majesty in the bath. The sight of her body glistening with water and oils in the firelight was enough to rouse my desire and before I realised my actions she was in my arms being kissed._

_I tried to stop._

_I swear by my oath and honour brother I tried to stop.  
_

_If she protested, I dinna hear. Nor did I care.  
_

_For her breath was sweet, her lips soft and her body fit against mine as if we were two halves of the same whole.  
_

_I dinna remember undressing nor carrying her to bed. I couldna touch, or taste her enough. I kissed and caressed her; my thoughts only on her body. When she touched my manhood I swear by all that is holy I howled in response. And when she mounted me, her hot, wet sheath sliding down unto me I could do nothing but surrender to the pleasure she took from my body.  
_

_We made love three times within a short succession of hours and afterward I no longer could deny that I loved her.  
_

_It mattered not her age, nor mine my heart and soul is hers. As the nights grew longer and colder I relished in our love, for love me she did!  
_

_She told me of how she had found herself enjoying our time together, of our talks and games of chess. She admitted that she found my manner pleasing and unlike the bastard that was her first husband, she enjoyed how I listened to her. Luciana admitted she had begun to feel more than simply comfort at my presence, she had begun to feel the first stirrings of attraction.  
_

_My absences troubled her, she was afraid that I felt no attraction to her. I admitted that my absences were because of my attraction. The more I was away the easier I thought it would make dealing with my attraction to her. I assured her that as a plan it failed miserably. No amount of time away from her lessened my need of her. I told her of visiting the taverns. She said she had been told.  
_

_I asked by whom and was told it was Frans who had reported my actions or lack thereof at the tavern.  
_

_I don’t know whether to hug him or hit him.  
_

_Luciana admitted to planning my seduction after Frans told her about the tavern. She started taking her baths and undressing at times when she knew the chances of me happening upon her was greatest. She felt it was the only way she could force my hand.  
_

_Again I dinna know if I should thank Frans or beat him senseless. I think it will be thanking.  
_

_And now brother I am soon to be a father. I have the love of the only woman I want or need and my oath as ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ is fulfilled for now and forever._

_  
_

**_18 September 1672_ **

****

_Forgive me brother my shaky hand, but I am close to the end of my days. My age of 63 years weighs heavy upon me and if it were not for my love I would have quit this earth months ago.  
_

_But I canna leave her without assuring that she is protected and cherished.  
_

_I have approached my King, my Sovereign, my son with a request that only he can grant.  
_

_I have asked him to appoint another ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ for my love in my stead. It is an unusual request and it has taken these many months for my King to study the laws to see if such a request is possible.  
_

_The law itself is not clear on the subject of one oath holder requesting another to be placed in his stead. But with diligent research performed by his Uncle Sebastian and the interpretation by the state and church council there is nothing impeding the appointment of another servant to the blood.  
_

_Unlike the original rites that accompanied my oath and service the one in my stead will only need to swear the oath and take the brand. He will not need to prove himself worthy to her.  
_

_Luckily for him, since she has informed me that she would refuse another in my stead. As it stands, we will not require her approval.  
_

_Her anger with me is such that she has refused to even speak of another in service. Her silence with me, His Majesty- our son and our daughter, Her Royal Highness Princess Anna is strong evidence of her anger.  
_

_But I dinna fear that her anger will last, she is well aware the reasons behind my request for another to serve the blood.  
_

_As this is my last entry brother I offer a few words of advice concerning your service to the Renaldi blood.  
_

_Never doubt your service.  
_

_Never underestimate anyone of the Renaldi blood. To do so would be foolish. I speak not only as one who serves but also as a father to those of the Renaldi blood.  
_

_Guard well your queen. I have never forgiven myself the loss of my Queen Gillian. It is a failure that I dinna wish anyone to repeat.  
_

_And finally brother, may the blessings of all that holy be with you in your service.  
_

_Long rule the Renaldi blood.  
_

_Long live Genovia!_

**_2 October 1672_ **

_I write this to all those who will be ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ to the Renaldi blood.  
_

_Never doubt your service to the Renaldi blood for without it the line would cease to exist.  
_

_Without you we would be nothing.  
_

_While those outside the blood look upon this practice as unnecessary and immoral those within the blood know the true value.  
_

_I cannot convey the depth of my gratitude, thanks and eternal love to those few who choose to serve us in this manner.  
_

_All I am able to say is Thank you.  
_

_With deepest thanks and regards,  
_

_Luciana Margaret Orva McNamara- Renaldi,_

_Dowager Queen of Genovia and Wife to Robert McNamara-_

_Regina Pratronus Quod Paramour of Myself_

_and Her Majesty Gillian Luciana Renaldi, Queen of Genovia- deceased._

_  
_


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 15**

Over the course of the next week Joe spent every spare moment of his time in the vaults reading the subsequent sets of diaries except one. The last set was from Rupert’s grandmother’s time, a fact that surprised Joe. He hadn’t realized that King Arturo has appointed _regina patronus quod paramour_ to Queen Mirielle. 

_‘Perhaps this explains His Majesty’s approaching me,'_ Joe thought as he organized the last set of diaries on the desk. The beeping of his watch alarm alerted him of the time. He would have to wait until later to read the last set of diaries. Right now he had a meeting with the English Royal Security to coordinate security for their Royals visit. Securing the door to the library, Joe slipped the key over his head as he usually did. His mind on the upcoming meeting and security plans Joe failed to slip the key under his shirt to rest against his chest. 

Joe walked down the vault corridor reviewing the requests that English security had made, approving some while denying others. So intent on the folder in his hands that he failed to notice the person leaving one of the rooms until they collided. 

“Oompf...,” grunted Joe, automatically putting his arms hand out to steady the person who had bumped into him. A familiar scent enveloped him and he looked into the startled eyes of Clarisse. 

“Clarisse….Your Majesty…I’m sorry. Are you alright?” Joe asked concerned holding her by the upper arms. 

“Joseph…yes…yes…I’m fine,” she replied looking into his concerned gaze before dropping her gaze to his chest. Clarisse noticed the key that dangled around his neck, recognition slowly dawning at its sight. Shocked at seeing the key, Clarisse felt a cold chill envelop her. 

‘ _He was…no, Rupert wouldn’t…’_ Clarisse thought tears springing to her eyes at the implications of the key in Joseph’s possession. 

Joe noticed the pained expression that crossed Clarisse’s face. “Your Majesty…” Joe began but was quickly interrupted by Clarisse. 

“I have to…please let…” Clarisse said as she pulled away from Joe, moving quickly toward the gate and service elevator. 

Joe followed his intention to make sure she was fine. Before he could step into the elevator to accompany her, the door closed. His last sight of her was tears on her face.

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse didn’t remember exiting the service elevator nor walking to the throne room where Rupert was holding monthly audiences. She didn’t remember walking into the throne room or up the aisle past everyone. 

She didn’t hear the whispers that followed her. Or the soft gasps as she knelt in front of her King and husband. She didn’t even remember her softly whispered, “Were you going to tell me or simply present him _fait accompli_?” 

All she remembered was the pain she felt as she knelt in front of the one man she thought she knew and loved. 

The pain evident in his wife’s face and her eyes cut Rupert to the core. He was the cause of it. 

“Everyone OUT!” he ordered, removing his crown, rising from the throne and walking down the few steps to his wife. He didn’t bother to see if his orders had been carried out. He knelt down in front of her. 

“Clarisse…” he began but he was quickly cut off by her. 

“Should I prepare myself to receive him in my bed? Or don’t I have a say in that either?” she asked, her voice choked with tears and anger. 

“Clarisse…please...,” Rupert began but Clarisse cut him off again. 

“I suppose I should be prepared to address him as ‘My Lord’. After all, he will soon occupy a place of high status in Genovia not to mention my bed,” she said, her voice breaking. 

“Enough Clarisse,” Rupert said grabbing her by the shoulders, pulling her into his arms. She pushed against his embrace finally breaking away. Even heartbroken her natural grace and beauty shone through as she rose from her knees. 

“Why, Rupert? Why?” she asked, wrapping her arms around herself as she moved away. 

She was so cold. 

A shiver passed through her. 

Rupert looked at the woman he loved above all else, at the tears and pain on her face, at the way she valiantly fought against the pain he was sure was tearing her apart. Standing, he walked forward, intent on taking her in his arms. He reached for her but she moved away, putting distance between them. His arms fell to his sides.   

“Clarisse, understand please, mon coeur. I did not do this to hurt you or humiliate you or for any of the thousands of reasons that I am sure have raced through you mind,” he began. “I did this; I approached Joseph about _regina patronus quod paramour’_ because I love you…” 

Clarisse interrupted. “Love me,” she said derisively. “You are placing another man in my bed because you love me?” 

“Yes, dammit,” Rupert replied. “Because I love you! I need to know that you will be cared for, protected and loved when I am gone.” 

Clarisse’s gaze shot to his, fear at the thought of losing Rupert filling her eyes. 

“Yes, when I am gone, “Rupert continued. “I know you don’t like to think about it and honestly neither do I but I know that I will never see my sons crowned King. Don’t ask how I know, just that I do. It is there every waking moment of every day. When I am gone I need to know that you, as Queen will be safe.” 

“So you do this for Genovia? For the Crown?” Clarisse asked. 

_‘Not for love…for your love for me,_ ’ she added silently. 

“To hell with the Crown,” Rupert growled angrily, grabbing her by the shoulders. “To hell with Genovia. I don’t do this…offer _regina patronus quod paramour’_ for Genovia or for the Crown. Both can cease to exist tomorrow and I would care less. I do THIS for you woman,” he said shaking her. “I do this so you will not be alone, so there will be someone to support, love and protect you after I die!” 

Rupert continued, “I know that you have feelings for Joseph,” waving away the automatic denial from Clarisse. “And he has feelings for you. I do not know if they are love or simply lust. It matters not. I do know that he is the one that I trust above all others. He is the one that I have chosen to be _regina patronus quod paramour_.” 

Clarisse stared at Rupert, softly saying, “I won’t accept him.” 

“Then you sentence him to die by my hand,” replied Rupert, releasing her. He sat on the stairs. “You know the law that surrounds the offer. If he refuses, he dies. If you refuse him, he dies. The law cannot be broken.” 

“You haven’t made the offer yet so…” 

“I’ve given him the key to the library, the brand and he has been reading the diaries. The offer, while not made formerly has been presented. The law states that once these items are given, the results of refusal are the same- Death!” 

Shocked Clarisse said, “But I thought that…”

“You thought that death only resulted if he refused the formal offer,” Rupert said. “No, mon aimé, as soon as he accepted the first volume and the items of office any refusal results in death.” 

Rupert held his hand out to Clarisse, hoping she would take it. He knew that not informing her about offering _regina patronus quod paramour’_ was a gamble that could result in the loss of the only woman he loved and his marriage. 

But it was a gamble he had to make. 

His time was growing short, he didn’t know how he knew but he knew that sometime in the next few years he would die. And his death would leave Clarisse alone. He needed to make sure the Renaldi line was protected, that Genovia was protected but most of all he had to make sure she was protected and loved. 

He hadn’t been lying when he said he cared nothing if the Crown and Genovia ceased to exist. The only thing that was important was his wife, Clarisse Mignonette Gerard Renaldi. She was the bloodline and his grand-mère had made it clear that she needed to be protected. And protect her he would, whether she wanted that protection or not! 

Rupert breathed a sigh of relief when Clarisse placed her hand in his. Perhaps everything would be alright as he took his wife in his arms. 

Clarisse settled in Rupert’s arms and listened to his heartbeat. 

She could see the logic behind the _regina patronus quod paramour_. 

Unfortunately, logic did nothing to quell the intense hurt she felt over his deception. Raising her head, she looked into Rupert’s eyes. She saw his deep love and his fear along with hope. Cupping her hand against his cheek she whispered, “Please give me time.” 

“Granted,” he answered before covering her mouth in a soft kiss. Ending the kiss, she laid her head back onto his chest. 

“I don’t think I will be able to accept him,” she said softly. 

Rupert sighed softly. “Don’t decide now. Take the time needed. If you cannot accept him I swear to make his death a quick one, regardless of the law,” Rupert promised.

_‘It’s what he deserves as my friend,’_ Rupert added silently. 

Rupert’s arms tightened around Clarisse as she finally succumbed to her pain. His silent tears joined hers as she quietly sobbed her heartbreak.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 16**

 

**_2 July 1910  
_ **

_My name is Marcus Kensington and I am ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ to Her Majesty Queen Mirielle Renaldi. A more irritating, insufferable shrew of a woman I have ever had the misfortune to meet.  
_

_Brother, you are probably wondering why if I find her so insufferable I would agree to serve the blood. My reason is only one. My friend Arturo asked this of me and as I owe him my life I agreed.  
_

_I entered into this service never having met the Queen and while this is unusual it is not without precedence. She evidently found me pleasing because she accepted my service. Although now having met her I personally think she accepted my service just to be contrary!  
_

_As death seems to be the only escape to the service I am praying that mine comes quickly, otherwise I may make my friend and King a widower!  
_

**_24 December 1916_ **

****

_God hates me. That is the only reason he has not seen fit to remove me from this mortal coil and make my life peaceful.  
_

_That woman, for I can never call her anything other than that is making my life a living hell! She continually ignores my advice about the security of her and her children and has even gone as far as removing the Princes from the palace grounds regardless of the danger that is present within Greater Europe. His Majesty is on numerous diplomatic trips due to this dammed war and has left her safety to me.  
_

_Dammit! I will have to return to this entry later. Hans has come to inform me that She is gone from the palace. Again! Along with the Princes!  
_

_Arturo I swear I am going to beat your wife when I catch her!  
_

_Marcus_

_  
_

**_23 July 1919_ **

_I have finally located Her. Why she and their Royal Highnesses are travelling with the Romani I do not know nor do I care.  
_

_I am taking her back to Genovia and her husband either willing or unwilling. She can curse me all she wants but my King has charged me with bringing her back and I bring her back I shall!  
_

_We leave in the morning and having learned from previous experiences; I have her handcuffed to me to prevent her escape.  
_

_God grant me the patience not to strangle the woman before we get back to Genovia!  
_

****

**_16 April 1922_ ** _  
_

_Just kill me now. Please, just kill me now.  
_

_I’ve fallen in love with Her.  
_

_What deity did I anger who would cause me to fall in love with the most exasperating woman in the world?  
_

_And now that I am in love with her what do I do about it?  
_

_When I read the diaries of my predecessors I thought they were fools for falling in love with not only another man’s wife but a woman who is Queen as well. I scoffed at it ever happening to me.  
_

_After all the woman who holds title of Queen is the most exasperating, irritating, insufferable, irksome female to ever walk the planet. She drives me crazy!  
_

_But I have fallen in love with her. And therein lays the problem.  
_

_What the hell do I do about it? And what do I tell His Majesty?  
_

****

**_14 September 1922_ **

_My King has placed me in Her Majesty’s bed.  
_

_I am to fulfil my vow as ‘quod paramour’ under the gaze of the King.  
_

_God have mercy on me._

**_22 March 1948_ ** _  
_

_Today I buried my friend, Marcus  
_

_Today I stood next to my wife as we buried our dearest friend.  
_

_I never expected to outlive my choice of ‘regina patronus quod paramour’.  
_

****

**_25 August 1948_ **

****

_This is the final entry into the diaries of Marcus Kensington, ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ to Mirielle Renaldi, former Queen of Genovia.  
_

_My son, my King has been lobbying these many months to choose another to serve the blood. But his mother and I have no urge to replace our ‘one who served’ and he feels no need to make the offer to any for his Queen.  
_

_Perhaps our grandson will choose ‘one to serve’ when he rules. If he does I hope his choice will be someone who exemplifies what ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ will be.  
_

_To you who may come after I leave you with these words:  
_

_Never doubt your service. For those you serve will never doubt you.  
_

_For your honour, your word and your loyalty the Renaldi blood is indebted to you.  
_

_Never doubt our gratitude.  
_

_Thank you,  
_

_Arturo Rupert Christoff Renaldi_

_Former King of Genovia and husband to Queen Mirielle Renaldi_

~*~*~*~*~*

 

Rupert woke to an empty bed. Clarisse was not in bed, her side had been slept on but she was nowhere to be seen this morning. Sighing softly, Rupert climbed out of bed to begin his morning routine.

His day was filled with meeting after meeting. Any chance to see Clarisse would have to wait until this evening. Looking into the mirror Rupert knew today was going to be a long day.

 

~*~*~*~*~*

 

Joe rolled over and stretched before rising nude from bed. Padding to the bath he showered, shaved then dressed.

Later today he would meet with His Majesty to discuss various matters.

Later today he would give his answer.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse entered the vaults. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was down here. She didn’t think the answers she was looking for could be found here among the treasures of the Renaldi’s. The dull headache that had plagued her all night was still there and the quiet of the vaults was soothing. Clarisse wandered down the corridor enjoying the quiet.

“Oh Your Majesty, I didn’t realise you were here,” Micah said as he bowed to his queen.

“Hello Micah,” Clarisse greeted warmly. She had always had a soft spot for the Royal Curator. He was such a lovely man, with a deep rich voice and a quiet presence.

When the boys were younger and home from school she and they would come down to the vaults to visit. Micah’s own children would often be in the vaults, spending time with their father or running up and down the corridor ducking into the various rooms, just having fun as children do. When the noise level or activity would become too much Micah would begin telling stories about the Renaldi ancestors that would soon have all the children and many of the adults, she and Rupert included, enthralled. She loved to hear him speak and even now she would often seek him out just to hear his stories.

And while Micah did teach at university level, often as a guest lecturer for a variety of Universities worldwide his first love was as Royal Curator. Micah was training his younger son, Claude to be future curator. Claude had just taken his second Masters at Cambridge, this one in Language. Micah had informed them that Claude would be returning ‘after he finishes traipsing all over the Ukraine in search of Scythians’ in six months to formally begin as Royal Curator Apprentice.

“However, I’ve been expecting you, Your Majesty,” Micah said.

“You have?” Clarisse asked confused as to why Micah would be expecting her.

“Yes ‘ma’am. After Joseph began visiting the Library I knew it was simply a matter of time until you came down,” he explained.

Clarisse could feel the tears threatening again and she replied in a quiet voice, “So you know.”

“Yes ‘ma’am. I’ve known since His Majesty approached me to release the first volume and items of office,” Micah said gently. He could see Her Majesty was upset about the idea of _regina patronus quod paramour’._ It wasn’t often that a husband appoints not only a protector but a lover for his wife and Micah could understand the gamut of emotions that Her Majesty was sure to be experiencing. Perhaps he could help her understand the why’s and wherefore’s behind the appointment.

“I was just off to make myself a pot of tea,” he said. “Perhaps you would like to join me in a cup?” he asked. Seeing that Her Majesty was going to refuse Micah added, “And while we enjoy our tea perhaps I can answer any questions you may have.”

“It’s a lovely idea Micah but…”

“And if I can’t answer them then perhaps Their Majesties can in their own words,” he added.

“Their Majesties?” asked Clarisse.

Micah smile and with twinkling eyes said, “You didn’t think there was only one set of diaries and library did you? Every queen who had ‘ _regina patronus quod paramour’_ kept diaries.”

Clarisse stared wide-eyed at Micah. It had never occurred to her that the women, the queens had kept accounts of the service rendered to them. Personal diaries yes, she had read several of those, but never ones pertaining to _regina patronus quod paramour_! At Micah’s nod, Clarisse smiled.

“A cup of tea sounds lovely Micah. As does conversation,” she said. Taking Micah’s arm she accompanied him back to his office.

 _‘Perhaps he and her predecessors could help,'_ Clarisse thought, the weight she had been feeling seeming to lighten somewhat.

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 17**

 

Clarisse watched as Micah went through the preparations for tea, his movements precise.

“Now what type should we have today,” Micah asked aloud as he pulled down ceramic after ceramic jar each embellished with a tea design. “We need something strong but soothing, rich but delicate,” he said as he sniffed one jar after another, replacing each until he found the one he was looking for.                                            

“This one I think,” he said handing the jar to Clarisse for her to smell. The delicate aroma of jasmine mixed with earthy oolong made Clarisse’s mouth water in anticipation.

As Micah prepared the tea he spoke. “I suppose before we can discuss the Queen’s diaries and library we really should discuss the _regina patronus quod paramour_ ,its history and laws. As I am not familiar with what you know perhaps it would be best if I started at the beginning and went from there. Will that be acceptable Your Majesty?”

Clarisse agreed. This would be the most efficient way to learn and not miss any important information.

“Very well,” said Micah. “The position is based on the Gaelic practice of second spouse or protector. Marriage in Gaul, in pre-roman times was based more on function rather than on political or social gains. As both men and women could inherit, hold office and even rule there was little need for a patriarchal society as in Rome or Greece,” Micah explained as he waited for the tea to steep in the pot.

“There were actually two forms of marriage in Gaul and ten sub forms of marriage. Most marriages were long term but people could enter into short term marriages from a few months to years. Divorce held no stigma and it wasn’t unusual for a woman to be married twice in her lifetime; once for a short period of time and once for a long period. Children that resulted from these marriages were heirs to both parents,” Micah explained as he poured the tea, handing a cup to Clarisse.

“Now that being said, it was not uncommon for a powerful man, think chieftain or a member of a powerful family to approach another man or even woman to become second spouse slash protector to his wife. This was often done to ensure that the man’s family was protected and cared for in case of war or death. Any children that resulted from this arrangement would be considered heirs to the first husband and wife.”

“The appointment of second spouse slash protector was not entered into lightly and often the husband cultivated the person he was hoping to appoint for years. Once the person was approached and he or she accepted and was accepted, they were branded with the mark of appointment. This was always done on the back left side of the shoulder as Gauls considered the left side to be closest to the home’s hearth, which women were in charge of. Once the person was marked he or she was referred to as _matron’s protector/lover,_ ” Micah explained. “But if the person was not accepted for whatever reason then they were put to death as were their entire families.”

At Clarisse’s indrawn hiss of breath Micah continued, “This appointment was not taken lightly as I said and those who were chosen were highly regarded. Their honour, loyalty and word were unquestionable and it wasn’t unusual for them to die willingly for any member of the bloodline they were appointed to. It was this reason that death was considered preferable to being refused as a protector. Whole families, once it was known that a member of their family was refused as protector, would and did commit suicide rather than live with the shame of the refusal.”

Clarisse considered this and while she couldn’t excuse it she could understand it. After all, other cultures in the world had similar practices when facing personal shame.

“But how did it become known as _regina patronus quod paramour_?" Clarisse asked, fascinated at the history of the position.

“Ah, you have the Romans to thank for that,” Micah replied. “When the Romans began their conquest of Gaul they encountered these protectors. Often when they raided villages and towns they found themselves facing these men and women who cared little for their own lives but would die to protect their bloodline. Capture and questioning revealed who they were and why they often chose to fight to the death to protect their bloodline. As usual with Roman historians they mistranslated _matron’s protector/lover_ into _queen protector and lover’_ and it became _regina patronus quod paramour_.”  

“Now, to use a term my grandson likes, fast forward to the mid 1400’s and the time of King Chevelair. Oh, I should mention that the practice of _regina patronus quod paramour_ did not die out after the Roman conquests, it simply went underground and for centuries powerful families, especially in Genovia, practised it. And while they practised it there was no formal appointment of it or consequences of being refused. King Chevelair was intimately familiar with the practice as his father and grandfather both had appointed _regina patronus quod paramour_ for their wives. It is Chevelair though that we have to thank for the modern form and laws that govern the position.”

“I am familiar in passing with the laws and some of the history but not all or why it was done,” Clarisse said. As usual with Micah Clarisse was utterly fascinated with the subject he spoke on.

“The whys are numerous but the easiest explanation would be that once Chevelair secured the throne of Genovia for the Renaldi line he knew that he had to protect the bloodline in order to keep the Renaldis in power. The best way to do this was to protect the Queen and children. Being familiar with _regina patronus quod paramour_ as it was practiced then he decided to formalize it. The formalisation of the position enabled him to make the one appointed to the position equal in power to the Renaldis but invisible to the general Genovian population.”

“You are aware that Chevelair was the youngest of three brothers, are you not?” Micah asked.

“Yes, I am,” Clarisse answered. “The oldest Gustav renounced his claim to the family title and became a monk. He became an expert in canonical law and later was appointed Bishop of Pyrus. The second oldest was Masson. He chose to study law and later became one of the foremost experts on Roman and Justinian law.”

“Correct, Your Majesty. I still believe you would make a fine lecturer and I wish you would join me in one of my lecture tours,” Micah said.

Clarisse laughed. Micah had been trying for ten years to convince Clarisse to join him as a lecturer but she had declined. Having a Masters in Political Science and International Business Clarisse knew she had the background but she wasn’t comfortable teaching. She could run a country and give thousands of speeches with ease but the thought of standing in front of a group of students as lecturer filler her with dread.

Micah smiled in response and continued. “Chevelair approached his older brothers for assistance in formalising the position of protector and between the three of them they created and adapted the rites, including the brand of office and laws governing the position. In order to illustrate how important this position was they also restored the original consequence of death at the hand of the King if refusal in any form was given.”

Before Clarisse could interrupt Micah continued, “Yes, I realise that it would seem to us now that death is extreme but Chevelair needed to illustrate and emphasise the importance of this position not only to one who would hold it but to the bloodline itself. The threat of death did this and the position of _regina patronus quod paramour_ has been used by the Renaldi blood for over five hundred and fifty years to protect the bloodline.”

Micah refilled their tea cups as he waited for Clarisse to incorporate everything she had just learned with what she knew.

“I suppose that most of the previous Queens accepted the appointment of _regina patronus quod paramour_ gracefully?” asked Clarisse.

The sound of Micah’s deep laugh filled the office. “Hardly, Your Majesty. According to their own words most accepted far from gracefully,” he said. “Do you know the old saying _hell hath no fury like a woman scorned_?”

“Yes.”

“Well there is one similar that applies to Genovian queens,” Micah replied, smiling. “ _Hell quakes at the fury of a Genovian queen._ Many of your predecessors accepted their protectors on the surface and then proceeded to make their lives a living hell daily. Queen Mirielle, your husband’s grandmother comes to mind as one as does Queen Marguerite, King Chevelair’s wife.”

At the mention of Queen Mirielle, Rupert’s grandmother, Clarisse said, surprised,” I didn’t know that she had _regina patronus quod paramour_.”

“Yes, she did,” answered Micah. “Marcus Kensington, _regina patronus quod paramour_ to her died in 1948 and even though your father-in-law lobbied to have another appointed in his stead after his death neither King Arturo nor Queen Mirielle wanted another. King Rupert only learned officially about Marcus after his father abdicated although if I understand correctly his grandmother had mentioned Marcus to your husband prior to her death.”

Clarisse digested this new information. What she remembered of Rupert’s grandparents’ marriage was the obvious love and devotion the two had and she wondered how if Mirielle had _regina patronus quod paramour_ this was possible. She, of course had only seen them after she and Rupert were engaged. King Arturo had passed away weeks after their engagement at the age of 85 and they had wanted to postpone the wedding but Queen Mirielle had insisted that they don’t stating that life continued as it should and she wanted to dance at her grandson’s wedding.

“And you say that Queen Mirielle wasn’t happy with her _regina patronus quod paramour?_ If she wasn’t happy with him why didn’t she refuse him?” Clarisse asked.

“From what I know, as I haven’t read her diaries, she decided that death was too easy for either man and instead was determined to make both men pay for their high handedness,” answered Micah. “And from the tales told of her exploits when she was Queen I would say she succeeded.”

“Micah, I think I need to read these diaries,” Clarisse said. “Where are they located?”

 _‘Perhaps I can learn a thing or two,’_ she added silently.

Micah smiled at the light of defiance he saw in Her Majesty’s eyes replacing the hurt and betrayal that had been there an hour ago. “I will take you to them now, Your Majesty” he said, placing their tea items in the sink to be washed later. “The library is located in the older part of the vaults and is extremely comfortable. I will give you the key to it and when you are done you can simply return it to me or keep it in your possession, “he said.

“I have a spare for cleaning and inventory reasons. I will also show you the passage that leads from the upper levels to the library itself,” Micah added as they walked down the corridor. “It is known only to me as Royal Curator, even Joseph doesn’t know of its existence.”

Clarisse was surprised, normally Joseph knew about every secret passage.

“I will leave it up to you to either tell him about it or not,” Micah added stopping in front of a large iron door with a rose motif engraved on it. Unlocking the door Micah opened it and switched on the light before stepping aside to allow Clarisse to enter.

The interior of the room was a surprise to her. She hadn’t know what to expect but the soft muted earth tones, overstuffed sofas interspersed with light coloured oak bookcases filled with leather bound volumes, a 19th century French ladies writing desk and leather wing chairs was not it. Clarisse walked through the room, running her hand across the sofas and over the spines of some of the books before sitting at the writing desk.

“It is lovely Micah,” she said.

“We redecorate every few years to keep it comfortable,” Micah answered. “Now if you will follow me ‘ma’am I will show you the passage.”

Micah opened a door between two of the bookcases to reveal a small sitting room and en suite bath. Moving across to another bookcase Micah pulled the handle of one of the iron sconces framing it. The bookshelf opened to reveal an entrance and a curving flight of stairs. Reaching left Micah switched on the light.

“The stairs lead up into the portrait gallery behind the last column. If you will follow me I will show you how to activate the entrance and exit, ‘ma’am,” Micah said as he started up the stairs.

Clarisse followed surprised at how clean and light the stairwell was. After approximately five minutes of gradual climbing, Clarisse stopped on the landing next to Micah.

In whispered tones Micah explained. “Prior to exiting you can look out to see if anyone is in the gallery,” he said sliding open a small window that allowed the whole of the gallery to come into view.

“Once you are sure you are alone just press this inlaid rose here," he explained pressing the rose and the column swung open. Stepping out he waited for Her Majesty to exit before closing the column once more. “To open the column just press here,” he said indicating the inlaid rose decoration on the column, “and the column will open. To close it from the inside simply grab the handle and pull it shut,” he added. “As you can see we are hidden from any cameras by the location of the column and even if you are seen security will just assume that you were already here.”

“I see,” replied Clarisse, pleased at this discovery. “I think I should try entering, while you are with me Micah just in case I have any difficulties.”

Micah agreed and watched as Her Majesty accessed the entrance to the passage. Entering before her he waited on the steps as she secured the entrance then led the way down to the library. Once there he watched pleased as she efficiently gained access to the library. Pleased with the ease in which she performed these tasks they re-entered the library proper.

“Here is the key that I promised, Your Majesty,” Micah said handing her the key. “I will leave you to your reading. The volumes are arranged by years of rule so you will find Queen Mirielle’s diaries here,” he said pointing to the bookcases nearest the door.

“Only queens who had _regina patronus quod paramour_ are here, Your Majesty,” he added. “Enjoy your reading,’ he said, bowing and turning to leave.

“Micah,” Clarisse said softly walking toward the Royal Curator as he turned to face her.

“Thank you,” she said, stopping in front of him, “for everything,” she added, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

Smiling softly, Micah answered, “You are welcome my dear, my queen,” lifting her hand to his lips he kissed it softly. Looking deeply into her eyes he whispered, “Have faith Your Majesty…Clarisse, everything will be fine,” cupping her cheek before bowing and leaving.

Clarisse watched as he left whispering, “I hope you are correct Micah. I really do.”

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 18**

                           

**_18 June 1910_ ** _  
_

 

_That bastard has appointed ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ to me.  
_

_I, Mirielle Renaldi, not only have a husband but am also to have a protector. I will not accept this Anglais salaud as a protector or lover!  
_

_How dare Arturo do this to me!  
_

_He presents this man fait accompli and expects me to simply accept him!  
_

_I refuse!  
_

_I will not!  
_

_Merde! How can he do this to me?  
_

_Does he not know that I love him beyond words and to even entertain the thought of another man in my bed leaves me feeling physically ill? And an Englishman, no less.  
_

_An Englishman!  
_

_What do the English know of love, of amour, of how the heart races at the sight of an amant? They know nothing! Less than nothing! They are a cold people who cannot understand love!  
_

_Psah! I shall never accept this man as ‘regina patronus quod paramour’!  
_

_Never! Never! Never!  
_

_Arturo, mon mari, pourquoi?  
_

_Why do you do this to me?_ **_  
_ **

****

**_26 June 1910_ **

**_Morning_ **

_It has been eight days since I have seen my husband. Eight days since he told me of the English bastard who is to be ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ to me.  
_

_Eight days since I have felt my Arturo’s touch or experienced his love and I yearn for him. At my refusal to even meet or speak with the Englishman Arturo removed himself from my presence, he and the Englishman have gone to the Winter Palace where they have remained for past eight days.  
_

_The only light in my world for the past eight days have been my son, my Eduard, his joy at life makes these past days bearable.  
_

**_26 June 1910_ **

**_Evening_ **

_I have made my decision.  
_

_God help both men!  
_

_For I will not!  
_

_I spent the majority of the day dealing with state issues among them the trade agreement with Spain. Arturo left it with me prior to his decamping to the Winter Palace. He abhors the tedious wording of the agreements that the Spanish and Italians seem to be masters at, so left it with me to read, and form a rebuttal.  
_

_After successfully completing that task I was informed by Diego a ‘person’ waited for me in the great hall.  
_

_Imagine my surprise when I saw the ‘person’ was none other than grand-tante Sabine, sister to my grand-mere. I did not know what or why she was here but we were soon ensconced in the green salon enjoying coffee and chocolat.  
_

_As was usual with Tante Sabine I was soon telling her about Arturo, my ‘protector’ and the whole situation. Tears were shed on my part at the telling but soon they dried at Tante Sabine’s words._

_  
_

“Chaton, are you not petite-fille to Arnaude Deverill? Did she not teach you that a woman unlike a man must find a more subtle way to revenge herself on those that injure her? Are you not suffering injury from the highhanded actions of your husband?” asked her great-aunt. “Perhaps it is time that you used your heritage to achieve your goals,” suggested grand-tante Sabine. 

At the look of understanding that came across Mirielle’s face Sabine smiled and the two women quickly began to make plans. 

 

_I will accept this man as my protector but I will not allow myself to feel anything for him but contempt. As it will be his job and duty to protect me I shall make sure that he earns every bit of currency given to him in this position._

_He will discover that I, Mirielle Deverill Renaldi am not a woman to be trifled with.  
_

_As for my dear, loving husband, he shall soon learn what it is to be married to a woman with Romani blood in her veins!  
_

**_1 July 1910_ **

****

_I accepted Marcus Kensington as ‘regina patronus quod paramour’.  
_

_He was presented to me as per ritual, kneeling naked , his head bowed, hands palm up on his thighs, his manhood partially erect and his body glistening in the candlelight from the oil that he was massaged with; nothing obstructing my view of his body.  
_

_He was formidable!  
_

_But even in his magnificence I could not forget that I did not want him or this situation!  
_

_When I ordered him to look at me the desire in his eyes made my breath catch. I had never interacted with the man, never spoke to him before today but the look in his eyes left me feeling wet and wanting.  
_

_What is wrong with me? I have seen men look at me with desire before but no man other than Arturo has caused my breath to catch or my body to respond like this Englishman.  
_

_No! I must ignore my response, bury it deep inside me!  
_

_I have promised myself that this man and Arturo will both pay for their action; I cannot weaken in my revenge!  
_

**_29 January 1917_ **

_I will kill Marcus Kensington!  
_

_I swear that I will!  
_

_The bastard dragged me back to the palace as if I was nothing more than a simple child.  
_

_I am the Queen of Genovia not some errant schoolgirl! Simply because I refuse to heed his warnings about me and my children’s safety gives the man no right to treat me as he has.  
_

_I know there is danger from this war and I would never willingly place my children or myself in jeopardy but I also refuse to keep my children in a gilded cage only allowing them out occasionally. If they are to learn about the world, its dangers and how to face them they must first experience the world.  
_

_This Englishman does not see it that way!  
_

_I do and as their mother and Queen it is my right to prepare them for the world in the manner that I choose.  
_

_Arturo and I will have some words over this Englishman’s highhandedness. If Arturo sees fit to not correct my protector’s behaviour I shall have to teach him a lesson.  
_

_A lesson he will not forget!  
_

**_14 May 1920_ **

_I discovered Marcus engaging in a tryst with Carol, one of the maids. Tryst though is a tame word for the actions I witnessed today in the west garden.  
_

_I had been enjoying the warm afternoon walking through the gardens gathering flowers and herbs for the kitchen when I rounded the corner to only come to a complete stop. There before me was Carol wrapped in the embrace of Marcus.  
_

_How did I know it was Marcus?  
_

_Few men possess his breadth of shoulders or his height. Few men can match him in stature; Arturo being one of the few but Marcus still has an inch or so on Arturo. My first reaction was to interrupt them and chastise them for their behaviour but at the sound of Carol’s moan I instead hid myself behind the hedge and watched.  
_

“Oh mmm…” Carol said as Marcus nipped and kissed his way down her neck. She couldn’t believe she was finally in the arms of Marcus. She had spent weeks trying her hardest to seduce the Englishman but to no avail. Then today as she came upon him walking in the west garden and she had decided to make one final attempt at luring him. If it didn’t work she would simply move on to someone else. After all, there were other more handsome men then he employed at the palace. But while he wasn’t handsome he did exude a power that made him irresistible. 

Her soft hello had been returned and she took this as a good sign. They had begun to talk and somehow between the hello and the conversation she had found herself in the big man’s arms. His kisses were powerful, passionate, and intense and for a brief moment Carol was frightened. But she soon lost her hesitation as his caresses and kisses fuelled her body’s desire. 

Marcus knew he shouldn’t be seducing the maid Carol but his body demanded the satisfaction that only the participation of another could bring. He has spent too many weeks alleviating his needs by masturbation. Today he would take what was willingly offered.

 

_I watched Marcus caress and kiss Carol. As he tongued and tasted her breasts, biting and nipping at the flesh as Carol encouraged him with her moans and pleas. Marcus didn’t bother to strip Carol instead only shifting clothing enough to allow him access to her.  
_

_I had seen Marcus partially erect when I accepted his service but I was unprepared for the sight of him fully erect. His shaft was thick, his erection jutting proudly up and away from his body. The head was hidden by his foreskin but I was availed of its sight as he slipped on un préservatif.  
_

_I watched as he entered Carol slowly giving her time to adjust to his size. I tried to avert my gaze but I found myself unable to, somehow needing to watch this man who had pledged himself to my protection make love to another woman. My gaze shifted to Carol’s face and I watched as she found pleasure in Marcus’ arms.  
_

_How do explain the emotions that I experienced while I observed?  
_

_Jalousie.  
_

_Envie._

_These were two, but there was also anger, resentment, bitterness and a deep hurt that left me breathless and in tears. I didn’t understand how this man who I did not want could injure me so deeply.  
_

_I did not love him.  
_

_I despised him and his protection.  
_

_Or at least I thought I did.  
_

_But as I watched him make love to another I couldn’t help but weep at the knowledge that I would never know his embrace or experience any tender feelings from him. I slipped away unnoticed back to the palace. By the time I entered my bedchamber my sobs were uncontrollable. I buried my face in my pillows thankful that neither Arturo nor our sons were present to see the state I was in.  
_

_Sister, I hope that you shall never know the anguish that I experienced this day; the knowledge that I have thrown away the chance to love and be loved by an honourable man. My heart is shattered by my own stupidity and stubbornness and now I must find a way to rebuild it. I pray that I will succeed, if not for my sake then for my husband’s and sons._

****

**_23 September 1922_ **

****

_How do I begin this entry?  
_

_So much has changed in the past few days that I still find myself unable to process it all.  
_

_I now have a lover along with a husband.  
_

_There I said it.  
_

_I have a lover.  
_

_Marcus Kensington is my paramour.  
_

_He is ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ to me, Queen Mirielle Deverill Renaldi wife to King Arturo Rupert Christoff Renaldi of Genovia.  
_

_How did this come about you ask? Especially after I swore I would never accept this man, this Englishman into my bed or arms.  
_

_Arturo, that is how.  
_

_My husband ordered Marcus into our bed.  
_

_And then he ordered me to join him.  
_

_Sister, I shall wait patiently for you to stop laughing.  
_

_My reaction was as you have probably imagined. I was incensed!  
_

_And I made my displeasure known, vocally and loudly, in four languages, with large amounts of cursing and hurling of objects thrown in for good measure.  
_

_Arturo was neither impressed nor sympathetic._

_He stated as King, my sovereign and husband it was within his rights, according to Genovian law to give me to any man he wished and it was his wish and command that Marcus fulfil his vow of ‘quod paramour’.  
_

_When I began arguing again he simply replied that I could either acquiesce or he would have both Marcus and I dragged out to the courtyard, stripped bare and flogged for defiance to the Crown as was the law.  
_

_Sister, the law Arturo spoke of is an old law from the days prior to the Renaldi rule. While old it is legal and he would have been well within his rights as King, sovereign and husband to enforce it.  
_

_Throughout this whole discussion and I use that term loosely, Marcus had been quiet. But at the threat of harm to me he immediately made his opinion known. Not loudly nor forcibly but quietly and effectively. He stated that no harm would come to me if I refused to bed him; instead he would stand both punishments of flogging as befits his service of ‘regina patronus quod paramour’. He also warned Arturo that if he tried to harm me, King or no he would breathe his last at his hands regardless of the consequences that befell him.  
_

_I watched as these two men, one my sworn husband and one sworn to my service faced each other. I suddenly realized that I held the future of not only my marriage, but my future and that of my country’s in my hands.  
_

_Could I damn everything because I was afraid to allow another to become lover to me? Was I frightened of the possibility that I would find pleasure in another’s arms? Did I fear that my self-respect would fall by the wayside if I took this step? And what of my marriage, did I fear that it would end if I welcomed Marcus into my bed?  
_

_I realized that the answer to all these fears was NO!  
_

_With a deep breath and head held high I began to undress. Arturo and Marcus watched as I removed each bit of clothing, neither man’s eyes left me as I undressed to stand before them nude.  
_

_Arturo was the first to move, pulling me into his arms and kissing me breathless, his tongue tasting and teasing my mouth. Just as I was sure that my legs would no longer hold me up I felt Marcus behind me, his large hands on my hips and his lips kissing the back of my neck and across my shoulders.  
_

_I cannot tell you how I came to lay on the bed but the sight that greeted me when I finally managed to open my eyes is one that I will never forget. Side by side I watched as my husband and my sworn undress revealing their bodies to my gaze. Arturo’s body I was intimately familiar with; his well-developed chest, taut stomach and lean hips made my breath catch. His erection jutted proudly away from his body- its size and thickness triggering an answering arousal in my body.  
_

_But it was Marcus’ body that stole my breath. It was nothing like I remember from years ago. His chest was massive, his arms huge, his stomach taut and his hips while lean gave way to muscular thighs. But his most impressive feature was his member. The glimpse I had of it years ago in the garden was nothing in comparison to its size and shape up close. He was longer than Arturo but just as thick and his erection jutted proudly up from his body.  
_

_I suddenly knew how a sheep felt when confronted by two wolves. The urge to flee was strong but the urge to remain still and hope not to be noticed was equally as strong. Before I could decide between fleeing and staying each man was on either side of me, their fingers stroking softly over my skin.  
_

_Sister, the reaction to their simple caresses was enough to cause my breath to leave my body. How I would be able to endure more I did not know?  
_

_Soon even thought was non-existent as their caresses and kisses overwhelmed me. The only thing I could do was to feel. Their hands touched and petted each slipping in between my legs to massage me before sliding into my moist channel only to be removed scant seconds later. Mouths pulled and suckled at my breasts, as hands squeezed the soft flesh. Hands and lips roamed over my body, stealing my breath and teasing me until I could do nothing but plead and beg for this pleasant torture to end.  
_

_Finally I heard Arturo tell me to open my eyes. A task that I found difficult as my body seemed to be unable to answer my smallest command. When I finally opened my eyes I found myself staring into the heated gaze of Marcus. Looking down I saw he was poised at my entrance, no préservatif apparent. Turning away from his heated gaze I looked directly into the loving gaze of my husband who lay behind me, my back propped against his chest.  
_

“Let him love you, mon amour. Open for him,” Arturo whispered. 

I could not respond. My voice was gone. All I could do was pull Arturo’s lips to mine and kiss him. A low moan escaped me as I felt Marcus slide into me slowly. My body reacted to this welcome intrusion by releasing more of my essence to ease his way. Finally he was fully seated and I could feel every glorious inch of him inside me. Needing to feel him moving in me I looked directly at Marcus. Placing my hand on his cheek I whispered, “Please,” before kissing him. 

His answering withdrawal and thrust was met by me and soon nothing mattered but the feel of this man inside me. 

 

_With Arturo’s knowledge of my body and Marcus’ strong thrusts I was soon experiencing unbridled pleasure. Sister, the bliss I felt was indescribable. Our lovemaking lasted well into the night with each man enjoying my body until I was nothing more than a boneless heap.  
_

_When we finally succumbed to sleep it was with Arturo’s arms holding me and Marcus’ body flush against my own._

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse closed the diary. She almost pitied Marcus, _regina patronus quod paramour_ and even felt a small bit of hatred toward Arturo but understood and empathised how Mirielle had felt. 

Wasn’t she experiencing the very same emotions that Mirielle had, now? The sense of betrayal, the anger at being presented this situation _fait accompli_ , the idea of allowing another man, even an attractive one like Joseph sharing her bed where only Rupert had been before.

Clarisse understood every emotion. But there was one small part of her that wondered if she could or even wanted to resist as long as Mirielle had. 

Placing the diary back on the shelf, Clarisse turned off the light before entering the small suite and walking to the secret passage. Opening it she secured the room before closing the door and ascending to the Portrait Gallery. Checking to make sure she was alone she exited the passage and headed to bed suddenly very tired.

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 19**

 

Rupert stood and stared out the window of his office, his thoughts consumed by his wife instead of the business of ruling. This morning’s meetings had lasted until almost one in the afternoon. He had gone in search of his wife hoping that she would join him for lunch but had been unable to locate her. He knew she was still on the palace grounds but exactly where he was unable to determine. Finally giving up his search for her he sat down alone to lunch. He had been unable to eat and after fifteen minutes of simply pushing his food around his plate he left the patio where he had taken lunch and returned to his office. There he poured himself a whiskey. 

“Might as well have a liquid lunch,” he murmured before he sat down and began working once more. 

As the afternoon progressed Rupert completed most of his work automatically, Gerard, his secretary not commenting on how his whisky glass was never empty. By the time he took his place at the window, whisky in hand, it was five o’clock and Rupert was feeling the effects of drinking on an empty stomach. A soft knock and the opening of his office door alerted him to a visitor. Turning away from the window he wasn’t surprised to see Joseph standing just inside the door waiting.  Waving the other man in Rupert watched as Joseph closed the door, the sound of the lock turning loud in the quiet office. Rupert watched as he crossed the carpet to stand directly in the centre of the room. 

Moving away from the window Rupert watched Joseph drop to one knee his head bowed, his hand over his heart. 

“My Lord, My Liege, My King, My Sovereign,” said Joseph, his voice strong and firm. “I come at your leave. I am yours to command.” 

Rupert sat his whiskey glass down on his desk and walked over to stand in front of Joseph. Reaching down he grasped Joseph by the arms pulling him up to stand. 

“What I ask, my Knight is not a command. What I request of you I ask as a friend, a comrade, a brother-in-arms,” Rupert replied, his hands moving to either side of Joseph’s face. “I ask that you accept the offer that my forefathers created to protect that which is most important- the bloodline of the Renaldi’s. I humbly ask that you accept the offer of _regina patronus quod_ _paramour_ to She who is the foundation of the bloodline. I ask that you accept this position to protect, guard and care for my wife and the love of my life and soul Clarisse Mignonette Gerard Renaldi, Queen of Genovia. I humbly request this as one who loves She more than his own life,” Rupert asked looking into Joseph’s eyes.

“Will you accept this offer to serve the blood to the best of your abilities until your death? To fulfil all and any requests by She who you serve even if it means dishonour and death? Will you accept the responsibility of loving and serving her with all your heart and soul?” Rupert asked. 

Joseph’s hands moved up to grasp Rupert’s upper arms his gaze locked with his sovereign’s. 

In a strong, firm voice Joseph replied, “Yes, I accept this offer of _regina patronus quod paramour_ with my heart, soul and life.” 

Rupert kissed Joseph, his lips moving over the other man’s. It was a kiss of thanks, of relief and of deep affection; a kiss that illustrated how deeply Rupert felt, feelings so deep that they exceeded description and simply were. Joseph returned the kiss without hesitation. This kiss was a tangible demonstration of his feelings for his King- a man closer than any brother, friend or comrade could ever be.  The kiss ended and both men stood in the others embrace foreheads touching tears of relief, gratitude and affection moistening their cheeks. 

“Merci, mon ami,” Rupert whispered, his voice cracking. 

“De nada mi rey,” Joseph replied, emotion colouring his words. 

Rupert took a deep breath before releasing Joseph. Stepping back he wiped the tears from his eyes, the immense relief he felt at Joseph’s acceptance lifting a weight from his shoulders. Rupert watched as Joseph mimicked his actions, wiping the tears from his face. Rupert sat down in one of the wing chairs, waving Joseph into the other. 

“Joe, I don’t know if she will accept you,” Rupert began without preamble. “When she discovered I was offering you the position of _regina partronus quod paramour_ she was angry. Angrier than I have ever seen her and immensely hurt. She confronted me yesterday in the throne room.” 

“That would have been after she ran into me in the vaults,” Joseph replied. “We collided and she saw the key hanging from my neck.” 

“Ah…that would explain how she knew,” replied Rupert. “Did she say anything to you?” 

“No,” said Joe, “she left quickly in tears.” 

Rupert nodded and leant back in the chair. “As I said I don’t know if she will accept you. She made it quite clear to me yesterday she wouldn’t even when I reminded her of the consequences of refusing.” Leaning forward Rupert looked intently at Joseph saying fiercely, “I swear to you here and now my friend if she refuses you I will make your death swift and to hell with the law!” 

“If she refuses me I will welcome death,” Joe replied, as he stared at his hands. 

Rupert’s gaze never left Joseph. “So you are in love with her,” he asked softly. 

Joe looked directly into the eyes of his King and friend. “With every fibre of my being, she is my soul,” he whispered.

Rupert nodded once. 

Silence descended over the office as each man became lost in his own thoughts. Finally breaking the silence Rupert said, “I will make arrangements for the Rites. It will be at least two weeks before they take place.” 

At Joseph’s nod he continued, “Once the time is set I will arrange for your seclusion. You will be secluded in the vaults, in the library. Since you are going to be out of communication we are going to need to address any security issues that may arise.” 

“I will begin addressing them immediately,” replied Joseph. 

“Is there anyone on your team you feel could effectively take over during your absence?” His Majesty asked. 

“Yes, there are two who come to mind,” replied Joseph. 

“Good,” said Rupert. “From the beginning to the end of the rites and the acceptance of your service it will be at least seven days.” 

“I don’t foresee any problems but I will make sure that contingency plans are in effect for every possible scenario,” Joe said, the look the two men shared conveying their understanding of what wasn’t being said. 

“That is acceptable,” Rupert replied. Both men slipped back into silence. There was nothing more to be said.

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 20**

                       

After a long week of Royal duties, including the three day visit by Elizabeth and Philip Clarisse found herself once again in the vaults, ready to continue reading more of the Queen diaries. Clad in a pair of slacks and sweater she moved down the corridor quietly, the usual tap of her high heels replaced with the soft sound of comfortable flats. Voices were heard in the normally quiet vaults and Clarisse gravitated to them wondering who else was down here.

Stopping at the entrance to one of the painting rooms Clarisse was surprised to hear first Joseph’s voice then Rupert’s.

 

~*~*~*~*~*

 

“I still wonder why he went to all the trouble to formalise the rites,” Joseph said. “Granted she is a beautiful woman but there had to be something other than her beauty which made Chevelair formalise the rites.”

“From what I have read and learned over the years,” Rupert said staring at the painting of Queen Marguerite, “he was madly in love with her. Did you know she wasn’t originally betrothed to Chevelair? She was supposed to marry some French baron but Chevelair saw her, fell in love or lust with her and kidnapped her.”

“Kidnapped her?” Joseph said, moving closer to the painting.

“Yes. He kidnapped her on her way to her betrothed’s holdings,” Rupert said, staring at the woman then at the background of the painting. “I’ve never noticed that,” Rupert said softly.

“Noticed what?” Joseph asked as he stared into the dark eyes of Marguerite. He always thought her eyes were a brown but now he noticed that they had more of a brownish blue tint to them than simply brown.

“The animals in the background,” replied Rupert.

Joseph looked at the background of the painting. He could just make out the outline of two animals one looked like a wolf and the other a leopard. And as he stared at them he could see their eyes begin to take shape. The wolf’s eyes while still hidden in the shadows were amber. The leopard’s eyes also in shadow were a dark blue.  

“A wolf and leopard,” Joseph whispered.

Rupert’s gaze shot directly to Joseph’s. “What did you say?” he asked.

Joseph looked at his King, surprised at the tone of his voice. “I said the animals are a wolf and a leopard,” Joe replied. “See here,” Joe pointed to left of Marguerite, “over her left shoulder is the outline of a wolf and see the eyes, they are amber. And here” pointing to the right of Marguerite, “is a leopard, its eyes are dark blue.”

“Mère sainte de Dieu,” Rupert whispered, staggering in shock.

Joseph grabbed the King’s arm quickly, guiding him to sit down on one of the benches.

“Your Majesty…Rupert…what is it?” Joe asked, concerned. His Majesty was pale and for a brief moment Joe was positive he was going to pass out. Joe watched concerned as the colour returned to his friend and king’s face.

“Are you alright?” Joe asked.

Rupert took a deep breath. “Yes, I am fine,” he replied. At Joe’s concerned gaze he patted his friend’s arm saying, “I swear I am fine.”

Joe gazed hard at His Majesty trying to determine if he was lying. Satisfied that he was indeed fine, Joe asked, “What was that about?”

“Just a bit of a shock,” said Rupert. “I wasn’t expecting to hear that the two animals were a wolf and a leopard.”

At the puzzled look on Joe’s face Rupert continued. “Ma grand-mère always called me mon loup, my wolf. About two years before I met Clarisse grand- mère predicted, I suppose you could say my meeting with her.”

Rupert stared at the painting, not bothering to look at Joseph. He continued, “She said _Her eyes will draw you, mon loup…Her soul will sing with yours…Love her as no other. But it will not be you who must protect her. For that, you must find another…Her protection is the future of the Renaldi line…She will be loved by both wolf and leopard. Mon loup first, el leopardo second. Find the leopard, mon loup and protect the line, your love and the Crown._ ”

Turning to look at Joseph Rupert continued, “And her eyes did draw me. The first time I looked into her eyes I knew she was the one I would marry. And I did, not that she was thrilled with my attentions at first.” Rupert smiled softly, lost in the memories of him and Clarisse. Returning to the present Rupert continued.

“In the back of my mind I always kept grand-mère’s prediction. But it wasn’t until the night we attended the Swiss ball that I realised who grand-mère was referring to. As I watched you dance with Clarisse, I realised that it was you Joseph who grand-mère referred to. You were el leopardo, the leopard! It was then I knew I had to approach you to become _regina patronus quod paramour_ to Clarisse,” Rupert explained. “I already trusted you above all others. And I knew you could protect Clarisse after I was gone. I didn’t know if you loved her but I could see you falling in love with her eventually. It would just be a matter of time.”

“And while I don’t regret offering you the position I do regret not telling Clarisse earlier about offering you it,” Rupert said.

“And now my selfishness may result in your death and the end of my marriage,” he finished softly.

Joseph knelt before his King; taking Rupert’s hand in his he first kissed the Royal ring before bringing His Majesty’s hand up to his forehead to rest against it, a sign of utmost deference and respect.

“My Lord, My King the honour you have given me by offering me this position I will never forget. Whether my life ends in two weeks or sometime in the distant future never doubt my love, loyalty and faith in you and Her Majesty,” Joseph avowed.

The two men remained in this position for a few minutes before Rupert grasped Joseph by the arms and urged him to stand. Following suit, Rupert squeezed his friend’s shoulder in response to his unspoken query and said, “Since we are here in the vaults I feel like exploring a bit. Would you like to join me?” asked Rupert smiling.

“Yes,” Joseph answered, returning his king’s smile.

 “Any suggestions where to start?” asked Rupert, leading the way out of the room.

“How about the armoury?” asked Joe, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Rupert laughed in response; leave it to his Head of Security to want to check out various weapons. “To the armoury it is! I wonder if Micah would mind if we tried out some of those broadswords.”

Joseph replied, “I won’t tell if you don’t.” Each laughed as they exited and walked further down the corridor to the armoury.

 

~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse hid in the next room, watching as Rupert and Joseph entered the armoury. Clarisse waited for a few minutes before exiting the room she was in. The conversation she had overheard gave her a lot to think about. No longer feeling the need to read more of the Queen diaries Clarisse made her way to the elevator. As she pulled the gate closed and hit the button for the main floor she smiled softly the decision whether to accept Joseph’s service or not made.

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 21**

 

Clarisse looked out window of salon, unable to quell the feeling of restlessness that had overcome her. Now that she had made her decision regarding _regina patronus quod paramour_ she found herself wanting to inform both men. But she knew that she couldn’t until Joseph was officially presented to her.  Moving away from the window she paced the salon, picking up magazines, books and various items before placing them back in their original spots. Clarisse sighed in exasperation, she needed to get out. Perhaps a ride would help with the restlessness.

“Yes, a ride would be perfect,” she murmured walking out of the salon.

Ten minutes later Clarisse was dressed in a pair of cotton pants, riding boots and one of Rupert’s dress shirts sans bra. She had found the dress shirt lying on the chair in the bedroom. James, Rupert’s valet had evidently forgotten to take it to launder. It still smelt of Rupert, a combination of his cologne, deodorant and his natural scent. Clarisse couldn’t resist the urge to bury her face in it before slipping it on. As she looked at herself in the mirror, the shirt hanging almost to mid-thigh she noted her bra shown through. Not wanting to change to another colour of bra or take Rupert’s shirt off she simply removed her bra and finished dressing. 

Now dressed for riding she headed to the stables but not before telling security that she would be meeting His Majesty and Joseph. The young security guard Scott or Shades as he preferred to be called questioned this but he relented when she simply looked at him her eyebrow raised. She knew he probably knew she was lying but short of calling her on it there was nothing he could do but nod and escort her to the stables.

Mounted on her favourite horse, Manchester, Clarisse enjoyed the feeling of the sun on her as she and Manchester trotted down the lane. Once clear of the palace grounds Clarisse urged Manchester into a gallop laughing with abandon at the feel of the wind on her face and in her hair. She gave Manchester his head and simply enjoyed the feeling of racing across the meadows of the Home Woods.

Slowing Manchester to a trot then to a walk she allowed the gelding time to regain his breath and cool down as she guided him to the small lake that sat to the west of the palace. The lake was one of the hidden treasures of the Home Woods. Fed by a fresh water spring, the lake, with its cool water was a welcome respite during the hot summer months and for years Rupert, she and the boys would come here to swim and picnic free from the prying eyes of the press and Genovia.

Clarisse dismounted from Manchester, praising him and scratching under his chin before removing the blanket and saddle bags Tomas had secured to Manchester. Dropping the reigns Clarisse let Manchester graze knowing the gelding would remain, he was trained well.

Spreading the blanket out near one of the large willows, Clarisse placed the saddle bag down on the blanket before she removed her boots and socks placing them at the top of the blanket. Sitting down on the blanket she removed the cheese, fruit, water and wine she had brought with her. Enjoying a few pieces of cheese and along with a handful of grapes Clarisse sipped the wine from the flask before carefully rewrapping everything and tucking it back into the bag.

The water shimmered in the sunlight, the light giving it an almost ethereal feel. Clarisse watched as the dragonflies flitted over the water and the surface was disturbed by the occasional fish. Clarisse could feel the restlessness leave her as she gazed at the inviting water. Making a quick decision Clarisse stood, stripped off her pants and panties before removing Rupert’s shirt, not bothering to unbutton it just pulling it off over her head.

Completely nude Clarisse walked to the edge of the water, the tall grass brushing her legs sensually, the sun highlighting her skin and bringing to life the freckles that decorated its silky softness. Walking slowly into the lake Clarisse couldn’t repress the shiver at the coolness of the water before she dove gracefully under only to resurface moments later. She swam for a few minutes simply enjoying the feel of the water as it glided across her skin. Soon she turned on her back and floated allowing the water to hold her in its cool embrace, her eyes closed.

She sighed in contentment.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Rupert and Joseph exited the vault elevator laughing and in good spirits. After exploring the armoury, trying out a few of the broadswords, swords and dirks they had explored the other many rooms in the vaults, discovering and rediscovering treasures hidden within its vast walls.  Their constant banter along with more serious discussions cemented the already strong friendship into something more. If asked neither man would be able to name exactly what they considered each other- brothers was incorrect, and comrades too tame. There was an intimacy to their relationship that defied a simplified explanation. And while their relationship with each other was complicated their relationship with the woman they both loved was simple to define. Clarisse Mignonette Gerard Renaldi was their soul, their love, their reason for being. It sounded trite and overused but for them it was true.

As the two men passed Shades on their way to His Majesty’s office, Rupert greeted the young guard asking, “Shades, have you seen Her Majesty?”

Shades stood at attention surprised that His Majesty would ask the whereabouts of his wife. “Your Majesty, I was informed that you and Joseph were meeting Her Majesty to go riding.”

Joseph looked at the young guard. “And who informed you of this Shades?” Joe asked his voice clipped and controlled a sure sign of his rising anger.

Shades swallowed and answered. “Her Majesty informed me herself as I escorted her to the stables that you and His Majesty were meeting her to join her riding. That is why no guard escorted her.”

Shades knew he should have went with Her Majesty but short of calling her a liar, an action that would surely have had him hung by his toes in the courtyard, there was no way she would have allowed him to accompany her. Shades prayed whatever punishment Joe meted out didn’t involve torture.

Rupert clasped the young guard on the shoulder. “It’s alright Shades, you had no idea we weren’t meeting Her Majesty.” Releasing the young man’s shoulder His Majesty asked, “Do you know which direction she was heading?”

“Toward the Home Woods sir,” Shades answered. Shades didn’t look at Joe; he didn’t want to see the older man’s disappointment. He was surprised when Joe said, “We’ll discuss this later Shades.”

Shades sat down heavily as he watched Joe follow His Majesty down the corridor. Shades ran a hand over his face, surprised he was still breathing. He made a promise to himself that from now on he would check with Joe before letting Her Majesty leave the palace unescorted.

Joseph followed His Majesty to the Royal Suite. He watched as His Majesty entered his dressing room and exited dressed in a pair of breeches, riding boots and a t-shirt.

“I take it you are going alone?” Joseph asked.

“Yes,” Rupert answered.

Joseph sighed in resignation. No amount of arguing would change His Majesty’s mind, Joe could tell just by looking his expression.

“At least take one of the radios to keep in contact with the palace in case of something happens,” Joe said, not happy about his charges being out of his sight but also knowing Their Majesties needed some time alone. Their relationship had been strained over the past week.

Rupert nodded his head in agreement and Joseph spoke into his microphone ordering a fully charged radio to be delivered to the stables. Following His Majesty out to the stables he double checked the radio before handing it over to His Majesty.

“It is set to channel 15, Security will monitor the channel until you and Her Majesty returns,” Joe said. “Try not to be too late,” he added.

Rupert smirked before he said, “Yes Dad. Is there anything else Dad?”

Joe laughed in response. “No, there isn’t. Just don’t make me have to come find you two later,” Joe warned.

Laughing in response, Rupert saluted and urged his mount into a trot.

Rupert allowed Caruso, his stallion his head. He smiled in enjoyment at the feel of the powerful muscles beneath him. Reaching the Home Woods meadow he slowed Caruso to a walk looking for the tell tale signs of Clarisse’s direction. Rupert spied the hoof prints of Manchester leading across the meadow toward the lake.

Tapping his stallion with his heels Rupert said,” Come on Caruso, we have a lady to find.” Caruso tossed his head in answer before he exploded in a gallop. Rupert let his stallion gallop until they came close to the lake. Slowing him to a walk Rupert carefully navigated the overhanging branches and trees that hid the lake from view of the meadow. As Rupert exited a stand of trees he pulled Caruso to a complete stop amazed at the sight that greeted him.

On a blanket, dressed in what looked like one of his dress shirts and sleeping lay his wife. The dappled sunlight gave her a delicate appearance and even from this distance he was sure he could see the sprinkling of freckles across her nose.

Rupert dismounted from Caruso, noted Manchester grazed a few meters away he allowed his stallion the same freedom. Both horses were trained well so there was no danger of either running.

Slowly walking over to where his wife slept Rupert stared at the vision of her before stretching out next to her, his hand tracing the curve of her back underneath his shirt.

Clarisse’s opened her eyes slowly, the warmth from the sun teasing her, tempting her to remain asleep but the hand that was caressing her alerting her to another’s presence. Clarisse lifted her head gazing into the darkening eyes of her husband. She rolled onto her back and raised her hand to her husband’s shoulder pulling him into her embrace; her lips parted to receive his kiss.

Rupert moaned into the kiss.

Gods, this is what he missed!

The feel of his wife in his arms, the drugging intoxication of her kisses, her soft skin beneath his hands.

Nothing could compare to the feel of this!

Rupert’s hands caressed her, bringing sighs and whimpers from her as he touched all those secret places that only he knew. The spot between her shoulder blades that caused her to break out in goose flesh. The spot along her outer thigh that made her breath hitch and caused her to move her leg restlessly against his. The spot on her lower back that caused her to arch closer to him, her pelvis pushing rhythmically against his.

Rupert broke their kiss and looked down into his wife’s flushed face. “God, I love you,” he whispered hoarsely before recapturing her lips in a passionate kiss.

He felt Clarisse’s hands pull up his t-shirt, her nails raking across his back fuelling his desire. Rupert grabbed the hem of the t-shirt yanking it up and over his head before pulling his shirt off her leaving her completely naked to his gaze.

Rupert’s head dropped to Clarisse’s breast kissing and tasting the soft flesh. He teased each nipple to tautness, first with his fingers then with his mouth alternating between each. His hand caressed her stomach and sides before sliding over her curls to slip in between her legs. He couldn’t contain the moan at the feel of her hot wet flesh, his mouth capturing hers in a fiery kiss.

 Clarisse could feel her body tightening in anticipation. She was so hot and wet, her moisture coating her curls and her inner thighs. But she didn’t want to come from just her husband’s hand; she wanted to feel every glorious inch of him pounding into her hot, wet channel.

Clarisse shifted her weight forcing Rupert onto his back. She straddled his thighs before bending over to kiss him. As she kissed him her hands went to work on his belt and fastenings of his breeches. Between the two of them they managed to open his breeches. Clarisse reached inside grasping and moulding her husband’s shaft before pulling him free of his breeches. She stroked his erection a few times, pulling his foreskin away from the tip, teasing him before she slid further down thighs and took him in her mouth.

“Oh god, Clarisse!” Rupert groaned as his wife’s mouth closed over his erection. He fought the urge to grab her hair and thrust into her warm, wet mouth. He fisted his hands into the blanket trying to maintain control and not come.

Clarisse suckled, licked, nipped, teased and fondled pushing her husband closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. She knew just how far she could push before he crossed over the line. She loved the power she commanded when she loved her husband this way.

Rupert could feel his control slipping. He knew he was close to coming.

“Please…Clarisse…no more…stop…please...,” Rupert pleaded, trying to fight the urge to thrust and come.

Clarisse smiled around her husband’s shaft. She sucked hard once more before releasing him, squeezing the base of his penis to prevent him from ejaculating. Rupert groaned then sighed, his eyes squeezed shut to maintain control. He felt Clarisse shifting and before he could process exactly what she was doing he felt her sliding slowly down onto his erection. He gritted his teeth at exquisite feel of her hot wet flesh sliding over him.

When she began to move Rupert knew he needed to take back control, otherwise he would be coming sooner than he wanted to. His hands grabbed her hips to still her movements and with a quick push he forced her onto her back he now in the dominant position. He looked down at his wife, closing his eyes when he felt her squeezing her internal muscles.

“Don’t,” he rasped out, trying to maintain control.

Clarisse smiled, flexing her internal muscles giggling when she heard her husband’s strangled groan.

Rupert looked into the laughing face of his wife. “Witch,” he said, thrusting into her wet heat. It was his turn to smile when he heard Clarisse’s answering moan. Pulling her legs higher onto his hips Rupert began to thrust slowly, enjoying the feel of his wife around him. He kept his thrusts slow and measured not increasing his speed. He knew the steady pace would drive Clarisse mad and soon she would be begging for him to move faster and harder.

He wanted to hear her beg and plead. He needed to hear it.

“Rupert…more…”Clarisse pleaded. His slow thrusts were driving her crazy.

“Please…harder…more,” she begged, pushing back against him.

Rupert increased his speed a bit, watching his wife’s face before capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. As they kissed passionately, Rupert increased the speed of his thrusts. Clarisse’s nails raked his back in response.

Soon the two were lost in the heat of passion. Words were no longer needed as they strove toward mutual bliss, their bodies gleaming with sweat as they caressed and kissed. They reached the peak of ecstasy at almost the same moment cries of ‘Rupert’ and ‘Clarisse’ echoing over the lakeside.

Breathing deeply to recapture their breath the two lovers caressed each other softly, smoothing the moisture from their sweat soaked skin across their bodies, sighing as a soft breeze helped to cool them.

“Je t’aime,” Rupert said as he held his wife in his arms.

“Je t’aime aussi,” said Clarisse.

Rupert placed a soft kiss on his wife’s hair before releasing her and sitting up. He looked down at himself noting the wetness on the front of his breeches. “I suppose I better clean up,” he said.

Clarisse stood, holding her hands out. “Come, the water is perfect.”

She smiled as she watched her husband pull his boots off then shed his socks and pants, not in the least surprised to see him sans underwear. She waited as placed his clothes off to the side then squealed in delight when he scooped her up into his arms and entered the water. She yelled when he dropped her unceremoniously in the cool water. She retaliated by jumping on his back and forcing him under the water. Laughter and shouts could be heard as they were soon frolicking in the cool lake before making slow love in the refreshing water.

Afterward they lay down on the blanket and shared what was left of Clarisse’s picnic. Wrapped in each other’s arms they drifted off to sleep.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“Joseph to Eagle. Come in Eagle. Over.”

Rupert woke and grappled for the radio, hitting the button to answer.

“Eagle to Joseph. What is it? Over.” he asked, placing a soft kiss on the shoulder of his waking wife.

“It is 8 PM. The chef is wondering if you are going to want dinner and you’re late. Over.”

Rupert could hear the teasing lilt in Joe’s voice.

“Sorry Dad,” Rupert answered, Clarisse’s laughter clearly heard in the background. “We are on our way home right now. I don’t suppose we will be getting dessert tonight? Over.”

“No dessert and we will be discussing your punishment. Only yours. Over,” responded Joseph, the laughter evident in his voice.

“Why only my punishment? She is late too. Over,” complained Rupert.

“She has obviously been led astray by you. Over.”

Rupert harrumphed in response. Clarisse grabbed the radio. “Eagless to Joseph, Over.”

“Go ahead Eagless. Over,” Joe responded.

“Do I get dessert? Over,” she asked her eyes dancing as she looked at her husband’s face.

“Yes. Chocolate torte with strawberries. Over,” said Joe.

Rupert grabbed the radio. “Not fair, Joseph. Over.”

“All’s fair in love and dessert. Joseph out.” he said, laughing as he signed off.

Husband and wife dressed, retrieved all their belongings, and secured them onto their horses before mounting and heading home.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 22**

 

Rupert watched from the bed as Clarisse went through her nightly regime. There was something erotic and sensual about her as she smoothed lotion over and powdered her body. He could almost feel the silky texture of her skin under his hands; smell the combined scent of her lotion, powder and something that was simply Clarisse. It was a scent that made him harder than stone when he smelled it. Luckily for him, it was a scent combination that was uniquely Clarisse.

“You’re staring,” the admonishment came from across the room.

“I know,” he replied.

“Didn’t your mother teach you that it is not polite to stare,” Clarisse said, looking at her husband in the mirror. He was lying back against the pillows, his chest bare and his gaze riveted on her.

“Yes, she did. But my father always told me when looking at a beautiful woman one can be forgiven for staring,” Rupert replied, the huskiness of his voice not lost on Clarisse.

Clarisse gave him an exasperated look in the mirror slipping on her robe and brushing her hair. It still surprised Rupert at how Clarisse viewed herself. She considered herself to be average, nothing special. She thought her feet too big, her nose too small, her mouth too wide and she didn’t like the amount of freckles she had.

He, on the other hand adored her freckles, her nose, and her feet especially when she was wearing heels. God, he loved when she wore heels- any type of heels. He didn’t know if he had a foot fetish but considering how he reacted when she wore some of her more risqué shoes he was sure he probably did.

And her mouth. God, her mouth should be illegal.

From the almost perfect upper bow to her full bottom lip, he knew he wasn’t the only man who wanted to spend all his time kissing her. And her smiles could knock the breath out of a man. He knew, since it happened to him all too often.

To him, she was simply the most beautiful woman in the world. And he knew he wasn’t the only man who thought so. But she didn’t see herself that way, which, at times, proved to be a problem.

Rupert’s expression hardened when he thought of Gravago, Mabrey and men of their ilk. Men who wanted nothing more than to possess her. To use her then toss her aside when they were finished. This was one of the reasons he made the offer of _regina patronus quod paramour_ to Joseph; to protect her from scum like Gravago and Mabrey. If he could kill Mabrey he would, Gravago had already been dealt with. But his death would cause more problems than it would solve. Although, there were times, Rupert acknowledged, the temptation to order Mabrey’s death often outweighed any and all possible consequences.

He despised the man!

And he knew Joe did also.

“Rupert?” Clarisse questioned, surprised at her husband’s expression. “Is there something wrong?”

Rupert let his anger dissipate, his expression relaxing. “No my dear…well yes,” he amended.

“And what is wrong?” Clarisse asked walking across the room, her silk robe offering teasing glimpses of her body.

“I am missing my wife,” Rupert said. His eyes darkened as he watched Clarisse remove her robe, her beautiful naked body revealed to his gaze. He pulled back the covers to allow her to slip into the bed and his arms.

“Hmm…this is nice,” said Clarisse, snuggling into Rupert’s embrace. She loved to feel the heat of him against her back.

“Just nice,” Rupert asked, softly in her ear his breath causing goose flesh to erupt on Clarisse’s skin.

“Hmm...,” she said angling her head to grant him more access to her neck.

Rupert spent a few minutes placing soft kisses along Clarisse’s neck, relishing in the scent and feel of her skin. Halting his kisses Rupert took a deep breath and said, “Joseph accepted today.”

Rupert felt Clarisse’s body tense at his words. He unconsciously tightened his hold on her.

“The rites?” she whispered.

“He begins his seclusion this coming Sunday.”

“So I have a week to make my decision,” she said, her voice even.

“Yes.”

The silence in the room was heavy. Rupert simply held his wife.

“Thank you,” said Clarisse after a while.

“You are welcome,” Rupert answered. “Clarisse…” he began. Clarisse turned in her husband’s arms and placed a finger on his lips to silence him.

“This decision is mine and mine alone,” she said. “I know this now and I accept whatever consequences result from it.” Gazing into her husband’s eyes, her hand cupping his cheek lightly she continued. “No matter what happens please know that I would never hate you or Joseph. I love you,” she said.

“And Joseph?” asked Rupert, needing to know how she felt about Joseph.

Clarisse dropped her gaze to Rupert’s chest before raising her eyes once more. “I don’t know what I feel…No… that is not right…I know what I feel for Joseph but it is…difficult… it is not…I never thought…do you understand?” she asked finding it difficult to say what she felt.

Rupert looked into the eyes of his wife. What they were telling him said far more than words ever could.

“Yes, I understand,” he said kissing Clarisse softly.

She loved Joseph, how deeply Rupert did not know but her eyes told him what she could not say. Rupert was surprised that he felt no jealousy, not even an inkling instead there was an almost profound relief at finally knowing absolutely Clarisse loved Joseph. He hoped her love would make her decision a favourable one.

“I think it is time we got some rest,” Rupert said, shifting to lie on his back and pulling Clarisse to lie on his chest. “Bonne nuit, mon armour,” he said tightening his hold on his wife.

Clarisse lifted her head and placed a soft kiss on Rupert’s lips. “Bonne nuit, mon chéri. Je t’aime,” said Clarisse before snuggling into Rupert’s chest.

Sleep came quickly to the two occupants of the bed.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The vaults were cool and quiet, a perfect accompaniment for reading. Even though she had made her decision Clarisse wondered about Queen Marguerite and why Chevelair would go to such lengths to protect her.

What was it about her that compelled Chevelair to formalise the position of _regina patronus quod paramour_? Why would he appoint not only a protector but a lover for his wife? A woman he was purported to be madly in love with; it just didn’t make sense. Perhaps there was something in Marguerite’s diaries that would give her a clue as to why Chevelair set the Renaldi Kings on this path.

Clarisse sighed in exasperation at finding no real clue in Marguerite’s diaries. While enjoyable reading, they offered nothing in the way of explanation to why the position was formalised. Needing a change of scenery Clarisse picked up the final diary of Marguerite’s and exited the Queen’s library, walking down the corridor to one of the portrait rooms.

The room was quiet and lights were dim. Clarisse sat down on one of the benches facing the portrait of Queen Marguerite trying to glean a clue from the beautiful woman. Clarisse absently traced the cover of the diary sitting on her lap as she looked at the portrait. Her fingers made a continual circuit over the leather bound diary, following the hills and valleys of the cover.

Clarisse stopped.

That was strange.

Clarisse’s fingers traced out a perfect square under the leather of the front cover. Turning the book over Clarisse felt the back; there was no raised area along the back just on the front.

 _‘As if something is hidden under the leather,’_ Clarisse thought. Opening the book Clarisse felt along the front inside edge of the diary. Her fingers skimmed over a small rough area in the upper left corner of the inside cover. Checking the back she found no similar rough patch on the back. Returning to the front she coaxed the rough leather away from the edge pulling it slowly. Clarisse stared as a small volume appeared behind the inside leather cover.

Reaching inside she gently pulled the small volume free of its hiding place. Clarisse opened the small volume, curious about its contents. Soon she was engrossed in the small volume, its contents answering a number of questions she had.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

**_21 March 1489_ **

**_  
_**

_I have been kidnapped.  
_

_On the way to my betrothed’s (how I hate that word) holdings I have been kidnapped!  
_

_Kidnapped!  
_

_Just another thing for my dear uncle to lay at my feet. Not only am I a useless educated woman, according to my uncle, who thinks herself equal to men but I have now been kidnapped. And what is worse, I don’t even know who has kidnapped me!  
_

_If only my grand-mère’s bequest were available to me this day I could have refused any and all marriage suits and set up my own household. But her bequest will not be available to me for another two months. By that time my uncle will have made sure I am married!  
_

_If I were any other woman I would be in hysterics by now, but I find myself intrigued as to who would be brave enough or stupid enough to kidnap the betrothed, albeit reluctant betrothed of Oste de Brandt, Baron Agen.  
_

_Agen is not known for his forgiving nature.  
_

**_23 March 1489_ **

_I now know the identity of my kidnapper and to be honest I do not know what to make of this revelation. Why Chevelair Renaldi, King of Genovia and former Duke of Pyrus would want to kidnap me is beyond me.  
_

_But it is he whose custody I am in.  
_

_I have not yet the man they call le loup gris, and I am not sure I wish too. His reputation is fiercer than Agen’s. At least with Agen I knew what to expect, a man who wanted a broodmare and wife. With le loup gris I don’t know what to expect and this frightens me. But I cannot show my fear. Wolves attack at the first sign of fear and I know le loup will not hesitate to attack if I show fear.  
_

**_21 June 1489_ **

_I am on my way back to my uncle’s holdings. I am being accompanied by a dozen of the King’s men along with the small force my uncle sent when he paid my ransom.  
_

_Chevelair has released me. I should be happy that I am finally free. Free from the attentions of a man fourteen years my senior. A man who has shown nothing but contempt and disrespect toward me since the day he kidnapped me.  
_

_A man who forced me…  
_

**_NO_ ** _… in this diary to myself I cannot lie. Yes, I occupied his bed and gave him my most prized possession, my virginity with nary a thought to the consequences. I allowed him to possess my body, to take his pleasure from me and give me pleasure.  
_

_And it was I who made the mistake of falling in love with a man who was known for his callousness, his cruelty and his brutality. The name le loup gris fits him well. For like a wolf he discovered my weakness and exploited it for his own gain.  
_

_Now he sends me back to my uncle, disgraced and worthless. And for what reason? Because I refuse to bend to his will. I will not bend!  
_

_I am finished bending!  
_

_How long I will remain at my uncle’s holdings is unknown but I cannot see residing there for more than a fortnight. Where I shall go still remains to be seen but thanks to my inheritance from my grand-mère I shall not have to rely on my uncle’s non-existent charity. If there is one thing I have learned in my seventeen years of life it is reliance on oneself is the only certainty in this world. And from this day forward I will rely on no one but myself, Marguerite de Argentaine._

**_27 July 1489_ **

****

_I have written to Chevelair requesting an audience.  
_

_He has refused to see me.  
_

_So be it._

**_22 August 1489_ **

_I am pregnant.  
_

_The father is Chevelair Renaldi, King of Genovia. I have contacted him to inform him of his impending fatherhood.  
_

_My missives have been returned unopened.  
_

_It seems the battle lines have been drawn.  
_

_Let the war begin._

**_26 February 1490_ **

_I have given birth to a son.  
_

_I have named him Christoph Michael de Argentaine Renaldi.  
_

_He is the son and heir of King Chevelair Renaldi. I shall be presenting him to his father in two months.  
_

_It seems Chevelair is to marry. His betrothed is one Katrina Gherladucci from Florence, a cousin of the de Medici family. I do hope she is conversant in ancient Genovian law, especially the law of inheritance and familial rights. If not, I am sure she will come to learn quickly._

**_24 April 1490_ **

_I presented Christoph today to his father. It seems I interrupted a wedding to do so.  
_

_Chevelair was not pleased. He was even less pleased when after ordering my son to be taken from me I invoked the Matron Law. I demanded my rights under the law and short of ignoring the law and losing his crown Chevelair had no choice but to agree to my demands.  
_

_I am now wife to Chevelair Renaldi, much to his anger and displeasure. The de Medici’s and Gherladucci’s were not happy with the results either. I shall have to watch out for them, the von Troken’s and Delacroix’s. It seems I have made a few enemies today.  
_

_My son and I are on our way back to our home. If Chevelair wishes to speak with me he will have to come to me.  
_

_And I shall be waiting, patiently._

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 23  
**

 

The only sound inside the room was the soft whisper of a page being turned.

 

 **_12 June 1490_ ** _  
_

_Everything has been relocated to the castle. My household and all its effects now reside with my husband. If he thinks that I will simply follow him blindly without questioning his orders he forgets our previous meetings.  
_

_He chose to return me to my uncle in disgrace. All because I would not yield to him, bend to his will._

_I still do not bend!  
_

_He will learn that soon enough._

**_15 October 1490_ **

_Chevelair has been attacked. His attackers are dead.  I now wait to hear how bad the injury to my husband is._

**_20 October 1490_ **

_Frederick Jacques has come to retrieve me. Chevelair is unable to travel, he has developed a fever from his wound. Frederick says the doctors have given up hope.  
_

_I am being taken to my husband’s deathbed.  
_

_God, help me, I cannot lose mon loup!  
_

**_2 November 1490_ **

_The fever has broken. Finally!  
_

_And Chevelair is recovering. To think I almost lost him…_

_  
_

“Your Majesty, the prince should stay here,” Frederick said, watching as Her Majesty packed the items she needed. He had no idea what the little box with all its small drawers contained but Her Majesty was intent on taking it with her.

“And I said my son comes with me,” Marguerite responded, the tone of her voice brooking no argument. “I will not leave my son here...,” Marguerite walked over to the scowling guard placing her hand on his arm she continued. “Understand Captain, if my husband can be attacked so can my son. I cannot be worried about both of them. Together we are safer.”

Frederick looked at the small hand resting on his arm. Her touch while light seemed to brand him. Nodding his head in acceptance, he swallowed before speaking.

“Is this all?” he asked, his hand moving in a sweeping gesture to indicate the items on the bed.

 “Yes,” Marguerite answered, pulling her fur lined cloak on before accepting her son from Greta, his nurse. Swaddled warmly Christoph slept oblivious to the commotion happening in his mama’s room.

 

~*~*~*~*~*

 

Their arrival at the manor where Chevelair was recovering was met with little fanfare. Marguerite demanded to be taken to the king immediately, as Greta settled Christoph. Her multi-drawer box in hand she followed Frederick into the chamber where Chevelair was lying. At the sight of her husband lying so pale and still on the bed and the physician bleeding him Marguerite lost her temper.

“What do you think you are doing?” she yelled as the physician cut a small incision in her husband’s arm.

“I am bleeding him, Your Majesty. His humours must be balanced so he can recover,” the physician informed her returning to his task.

“He has lost enough blood,” Marguerite said. “Stop at once,” she ordered.

“But Your Majesty…,” the physician began.

Marguerite ignored the physician. Turning to Frederick she ordered, “Get this man out of here.”

She moved to the bed and pushed the physician aside applying pressure to the small cut on the inside of her husband’s arm. The physician was about to protest when he felt the harsh grip of Her Majesty’s guard on his arm. The physician made no protest as he was escorted from the room.

Marguerite began giving orders to the men.

“I need hot water, lots of it…squares of linen along with wine that has just been brought to a boil.”

Reaching into her box Marguerite extracted a small bag. Handing it to Carl, one of the guards she said, “Put two palm full of this in the wine when it arrives and stir it then let it sit for a count of one hundred.”

“Frederick come here and help me strip mon loup, I need to see what his injuries look like.”

Marguerite didn’t notice the grins the men exchanged when she referred to their King by his nom de plume. Soon all the men and women inside the chamber were carrying out Her Majesty’s orders.

Stripped bare Marguerite could not stop the horrified gasp as she looked at the injuries her husband had obtained. His thigh was sliced open, not deeply but enough to cause a good deal of blood loss. His chest had innumerable cuts and slashes. But it was his right shoulder and the deep wound from what appeared to be a dagger that worried Marguerite. The wound was red, inflamed and pus filled. It smelled horrible and Marguerite knew this was the cause of her husband’s fever.

“We need to wash and clean him,” Marguerite said. “Then we are going to have to draw the pus from his shoulder.”

“How do we do that Your Majesty?” Frederick asked, clearly out of his element but prepared to follow the directions of his Queen.

“I will have to re-open the wound then bathe it with very hot water,” answered Marguerite. “We will have to keep bathing it until all the pus is gone. Is the wine here yet?”

“Ninety-eight…ninety-nine…one hundred,” counted Carl carrying the wine jug over to Her Majesty. “Here is the wine. I put the herbs in, stirred and counted. It is ready.”

Marguerite thanked the young man and poured a measure into a goblet. “Frederick, lift mon loup up. I need him to drink this,” she said.

At the look on the Captain’s face Marguerite explained. “It is drugged and will help to keep him relaxed. It also has a side effect of not allowing any dissembling. But as mon loup is not going to be talking I don’t think we will have to worry about that.”

 Lifting His Majesty into a sitting position Frederick watched as Marguerite coaxed the warm wine into the pale man. Satisfied that she was able to get him to drink most of the goblet Marguerite nodded to Frederick and the Captain gently laid his King back onto the bed.

The hot water finally arrived and the process of bathing and cleaning the wounds began. Every person in the room flinched at the groan then scream that came from their King as Her Majesty reopened and cleaned the shoulder wound. It took four men to hold him down as Marguerite tended the wound. It was almost two hours later when Marguerite, finally satisfied that all the wounds were treated satisfactorily asked Frederick to raise Chevelair up into a sitting position so she could coax more wine into him.

After coaxing Chevelair to drink more wine Frederick laid him back down and watched as Her Majesty covered the King.

“Now what?” he asked.

Marguerite looked at the Captain then at the men and women still in the chamber and replied; “Now we wait.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse turned the page and continued reading.

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

**5 February 1491**

 

_The von Trokens have arrived. Their disdain is apparent even to the most blind and now they bring that odious Mabrey with them. Why does Chevelair allow them access to him? Can he not see how behind their effusive manners they plot and plan to steal the throne from him? Or is he so enamoured of Von Trokens’ wife that he cannot see that he is being played a fool?  
_

_What game is he playing at?  
_

_The witch had the audacity to approach me today and offer her commiseration over my apparent lack of wifely skills. She even offered to tutor me in the proper chatelaine duties.  
_

_I’ll teach her proper!_

**_8 February 1491 Evening_ **

_Beatrice von Troken, how I despise that woman! Throughout midday meal she flirted and simpered at my husband even going so far as to offer her ‘services’ to him, as instructor for me. Those were not the only services she was offering, of that I am sure. After the meal she continued her flirting ways going so far as to caress Chevelair intimately.  
_

_I must give Chevelair credit, he did not react. Personally, I would have cut her hand off starting at her shoulder. Now I am being forced to watch as she continues her flirting as we are entertained by a group of travelling musicians from Southern Spain.  
_

_The music and dance from this group is beautiful.  
_

_After their performance one of the older women of the troupe approached me and offered to instruct me in dance, saying I would be an excellent student. There was something in the woman’s eyes that made me accept.  
_

_Chevelair is to leave on the morrow and won’t return for a fortnight. That should be time enough for me to learn. I have a feeling I will be learning more than just a simple dance._

_**5**_ **_March 1491_ **

****

_I was correct when I predicted I would be instructed in more than just a simple dance. My instruction included not only dance, a far more intimate and sensual dance than what had been performed for us but also in seduction. Asma and her daughters, Lucine and Tabina were my teachers.  
_

_From them I learned things that still bring a blush to my cheeks.  
_

_The women told and showed me things that I would never have dreamed of, things designed to please a man and in pleasing him please myself. They also instructed me on how to flirt properly, not as that Von Troken woman did but as true gentlewoman.  
_

_I had no idea flirting could be so difficult._

_Asma asked me how I came to be married to the King and when I explained how and mentioned the Matron Law she asked about it. I explained it was an old Genovian law that stated a woman had the right to demand restitution in the form of payment for giving birth to a child whose father was not her husband. The payment could be in the form of marriage to the father, if the mother was unmarried or monies if she was married. If the father was of titled blood and he refused to make restitution in the requested form then the law would strip him of everything including his titles and give it to the child. If he was King he would lose his crown, or his right to the throne if a prince.  
_

_The women were amazed at the law; it was rare to have a law that ensures a woman’s welfare. I told them the law was one that dated back to antiquity but was still very much enforced in Genovia.  
_

_They also spoiled Christoph terribly. Gushing over him and predicting he would be a strong man and great leader. He, much like his father enjoyed all the female attention. I do hope he will be a strong leader.  
_

_Before they left Asma gave me a beautifully illustrated book from India, translated into French that contained images of lovemaking. Asma told me that she had gifted both her daughters with it when they had married and now she gave me a copy so I too would know the power a woman, especially one who is Queen has.  
_

_Now I simply wait for Chevelair to return so I can put into practice all that I have learned._

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Chevelair entered the castle surprised Marguerite was not present to greet him. Although if he thought about it he shouldn’t be surprised, their travel had been plagued with bad weather and he was lucky to have finally arrived home this evening. He and the men had washed the dirt of their journey from their bodies in the cold lake before heading to the castle.

Accepting the goblet of warm mulled wine from Tomas he inquired to the whereabouts of his wife. He was informed she was above stairs. Chevelair handed Tomas his doublet, cloak and other garments to be cleaned before heading to the stairs to greet his wife.

Chevelair yawned in exhaustion. All he wanted to do was climb into bed and sleep, preferably next to his wife. He wondered if he could coax her into sharing his bed tonight. He would prefer she be in his bed every night but he promised himself he would not force her. He was already intimately familiar with how she reacted when forced. He just hoped she didn’t react in the same manner when jealous. Although, if he had to endure anymore of Beatrice von Troken’s flirting he might just swallow his pride and simply beg her forgiveness and confess his love.

The von Trokens deserved each other, both were unpleasant. And as for Mabrey, he wished he could figure out exactly what his agenda was, he didn’t trust the man. His father’s advice of keep your friends close and your enemies closer while good made for unbearable meals at times.

Chevelair opened the door to his chambers and came to an abrupt halt. He closed his eyes and shook his head before reopening his eyes. The vision before him was still there. He entered the room and closed the door.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

His wife in his arms, Chevelair smiled in the darkness as the memories of the night replayed in his mind. When he had entered his chamber he had not been expecting his wife to already be present nor was he expecting her to be dressed so provocatively. Instead of the voluminous gowns she usually wore she was dressed in a simple linen gown that fitted her form. Lit from the back by the flames from the fireplace Chevelair could see she wore nothing underneath it. He could feel himself growing hard at the sight of her.

As she walked to him he swore he heard the soft tinkling of bells. The skin on her arms shone as if polished and when he raised his hand to touch her he was surprised at the silky softness of it. But it was the scent of her that made him lose what little control he had. It was heady, rich and exotic reminding him of heavy summer nights. He didn’t resist when she pulled his head to down to hers her lips tasting and teasing his.

Chevelair couldn’t remember how they managed to reach the bed nor could he remember how he came to be undressed. His complete focus was on the seductress in his arms as she wove her spell over him. Her kisses robbed him of breath and thought and her hands made his skin tingle. When she began to trail kisses across and down his chest his breath hitched and his heart hammered against his ribcage. When he felt her breath ghost over his shaft followed by her hair he was sure his heart skipped. But it was when she took him in her mouth, suckling, nibbling and teasing him her hands fondling him, he forgot to breathe.

He begged and pleaded. He cried and cursed trying to force her to stop this delicious torment but she ignored him. She continued and he came, shouting her name as he emptied himself into her warm, wet mouth. His body shook from the force of his orgasm; his head, arms and legs heavier than lead.

As Chevelair lay there recovering Marguerite began the next phase of her seduction. Whispering into his ear for him to roll over she waited as he followed her request. Pouring the warmed oil in the palm of her hand she rubbed her hands together as she straddled his hips. She slowly began to massage the oil onto his back, kneading the muscles underneath. She pressed hard, manipulating the muscles just as Lucine instructed until she felt him relaxing.

Marguerite shifted to straddle his upper thighs, his lower back and buttocks within easy reach of her hands. She poured more oil into her palm, before rubbing her hands together and continuing her massage. As she massaged Chevelair’s lower back she allowed her hands to slide across the firm globes of his buttocks occasionally trailing a finger down his cleft before slipping underneath to trace the soft skin of his balls. The first time she did this he jumped in surprise but soon she had him seeking her touch lifting his hips to allow her greater access, his moans conveying his enjoyment.

Marguerite slid off Chevelair’s thighs and whispered, “Turn over mon loup.” Not surprised when he mumbled something before complying.

On his back Chevelair opened his eyes to see what his wife was planning. He was surprised when he saw her nude body before him, her hands spreading oil across it. He reached for her pulling her on top of him his hands helping to spread the oil. The oil made it easy for him to caress her from her breasts to her thighs. His fingers slipping over her and into her, his eyes darkening with desire as he felt how wet she was. Her breathing increased as he caressed her clit with the rough pad of his finger.

When she rose up and grabbed his cock with one oiled hand he couldn’t prevent the thrust of his hips. But it was when she positioned his shaft at her entrance he forced himself to be still. The heat and feel of her as she slid onto his hard cock made him grit his teeth. And as she rose up and down his hard shaft he prayed for control. A prayer that proved to be useless; he was soon meeting her thrusts with ones of his own. Eventually, the upward thrusts were just not enough and Chevelair pulled her tight to him and rolled them over, he now above her.

He hooked her legs under his arms and began plunging into her moist heat. Marguerites cries and pleas of more spurred him on until he was slamming into her, uncaring of anything but the delicious feel of her around his cock. Chevelair felt the quivering and clenching of her walls. Slipping a hand between their bodies he roughly stroked Marguerite’s clitoris, the extra stimulation triggering her orgasm, his name a cry of pleasure on her lips. He soon followed her into ecstasy, her name shouted as he emptied himself into her pulsating channel.

Later he murmured words of love and apologies to her as he dried her tears. Each knew this night a new beginning for them. A beginning filled with love.

 

**_12 May 1494_ **

 

_Chevelair wants to formalise the ‘regina patronus quod paramour’. He says that the most important to the bloodline must be protected. I agree the children must be protected. When I said this to mon loup he gave me a odd look and said while our children are important they are not the most important.  
_

_I am.  
_

_I do not know what to think of this. How can I be more important than our children?  
_

_And while I am familiar with the practice of ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ I have reservations about it. I know it is primarily practiced as a way to protect the bloodlines and the paramour part is rarely utilized but Chevelair is contemplating reinstating the original practice. This would mean anyone he appointed would become lover paramour to me.  
_

_I have no urge to see another occupy my bed. I prefer only Chevelair to be there.  
_

_His brothers Gustav and Masson are coming to visit in a few days. Chevelair has stated that they are going to be discussing the ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ to determine the best way to go about reinstating it. I have told mon loup that I want to be included in the discussions, especially as it will be I and the future Queens of Genovia who will be the ones protected and effected by this position most._

**_23 February 1495_ **

_The position of ‘regina patronus quod paramour’ is formalised. The rites, oaths and marks of office are set down in writing as are the consequences of refusal._

_The Renaldi bloodline will only offer the position once. If accepted the one who will be in service will swear an oath before the highest ranking religious authority in Genovia. The brand of office will be bestowed on him as will a ring.  
_

_Gustav is designing the ring and brand.  
_

_Prior to the swearing of the oath the one chosen will be secluded for three days, then on the fourth be anointed and presented for the oath. Chevelair was intent on this being the end of the ceremony but, I with the support of Masson have added an addition to the ceremony. The addition we added was that the Queen had the final approval of the person who was to become ‘regina patronus quod paramour’.  
_

_Our reasoning was that in ancient times it was the woman who held the power of life and death over the one who wished to serve and so it should be the same in modern times. This also helped to enforce the importance and status of the Queen.  
_

_Chevelair agreed and we four developed a second rite that would have the one chosen presented to the Queen. Gustav brought up a good point while we were creating the second rite. How would the Queen know if the person appointed could be trusted? After all, trusted friends and advisors have been known to betray those closest to them. He used Judas Iscariot as an example.  
_

_It was Frederick who came up with the solution. The drugged wine that is used to relax those that are injured so I and the Royal physician may attend them has a side effect of not allowing any dissembling. If the one chosen was forced to drink the wine for two or three days and questioned extensively while under its influence that would remove any doubt as to their trustworthiness. Chevelair added that the one who was to serve could be questioned while being bathed and massaged to prevent them from becoming suspicious.  
_

_It was an excellent idea and so it was added, and the recipe for the herbs and wine recorded.  
_

_How and when the one who wished to serve was presented to the Queen was also decided. Since the person who was to serve should have nothing hidden it was decided that they would be presented nude and kneeling in respect after three days. It was also decided the Queen had three days after the presentation to either accept or refuse the service.  
_

_The consequences for refusing were also recorded. Chevelair demanded that death be the result for any refusal and no argument would sway him. Death was the original consequence and so it would remain. He added that if the Queen refused, the one who wished to serve would be put to death by the King’s hand, as it would be a signal of respect for the one that had wished to serve.  
_

_Now that the position is formalised I know Chevelair is going to soon approach someone with the offer. I can understand his reasoning, even though I know he loves me as I do him, he is also aware of our differences in age. He knows he will not live long enough to see his son crowned King and he also needs to protect the future of the Renaldi rule for our children and our descendents._

_I know all this but it does not alleviate the heartbreak I know I will endure when I lose my husband.  
_

_I would gladly make a deal with Lucifer himself if I could prevent the loss of Chevelair._

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse closed the book. That was the last entry in this secret volume and she was amazed at what she had learned. Placing the volume back into its hiding place Clarisse smoothed the leather, before closing the larger diary.

Looking up at the portrait of Marguerite she finally understood the reasons behind the _regina patronus quod paramour._ It was designed to protect the most important thing to Chevelair- his wife. And in protecting his wife he protected the bloodline, his children and the Crown of Genovia.

Clarisse wondered what Genovia would be like now if Chevelair hadn’t made the difficult decision to formalise the position. Would the Renaldi’s be on the throne now if it hadn’t been for the first _regina patronus quod paramour_?

In some odd way Clarisse felt closer to Marguerite than she had before. Clarisse stepped back from the portrait. Looking up into the eyes of the first Renaldi Queen, Clarisse executed a perfect formal curtsey, and for a brief moment she could almost swear Marguerite inclined her head in acknowledgment while the eyes of the wolf and leopard flashed in colour.

Clarisse shook her head at her fancifulness, all this reading and the atmosphere was affecting her.

“I need some tea,” she said as she headed to the Queen’s library to return the diary, before exiting the vaults.

 

**  
**


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 24**

 

The week went by quickly and soon Sunday arrived. After meeting with Gustav and His Majesty to go over any final adjustments to security Joseph returned to his suite to pack his bag. He and His Majesty agreed it would be easier if everyone at the palace simply thought Joe had gone on a security business trip to Spain for a week. Rather than flying Joe was to take one of the palace cars and he would be staying at a rented flat in Madrid. His presence away from the palace would then be easily explained. 

Joe carried his bag down to the garage. Placing the bag in the trunk of the Jag, Joe closed the trunk before climbing into the car. Joe drove out of the palace gates driving toward the coastal highway that would take him south. Right before the entrance to the highway Joe turned left. Fifteen minutes later Joe arrived at a small farm, its entrance blocked by a security gate. Keying the code into the number pad Joe waited as the barrier rose before entering. Once inside the barrier closed and Joe continued up to the house. Parking the Jag in the garage Joe exited. Walking inside Joe was greeted by His Majesty and a bewildered Shades. 

Shades wasn’t sure why he was here. But His Majesty had requested his presence. Shades was surprised when Joe walked into the house from the garage but said nothing. Whatever was going on Shades was sure he would be filled in eventually. 

“Any problems?” His Majesty asked. 

“No, none at all,” answered Joe. 

“Good,” answered His Majesty. 

Rupert turned to Shades. “Shades, I want you to reset the odometer on the Jag to reflect this mileage,” he said, handing a slip of paper to him. “Once that is done, join us in the study.” 

“Yes Sir,” Shades answered, not bothering to ask any questions. _‘They’ll tell me when they are ready,’_ he thought. 

The two men watched the younger man head to the garage; they knew it would take him at least an hour to complete his task. 

“I know you said he could be trusted but…” said Rupert. 

“Don’t worry Sir, he can be,” said Joe. 

“You still haven’t explained your reasons behind not trusting Gustav. You trust him enough to be in charge for a week but not with this. Why?” 

“Your Majesty,” Joe began, seeing the look on his King’s face he quickly corrected himself. “Rupert…the reason I am not trusting Gustav with this is that he is resigning in three month’s time to accept a position with the Liechtenstein Royal Family. He is to be their Head of Security; a position that he is eminently qualified for but would cause a conflict of interest for him. That is why I chose young Shades. He has already shown he has the drive and commitment. He will make a good second-in-command.” 

“Won’t this cause some dissension among the older and more experienced members of the team?” questioned Rupert. 

“No. Few if any of the older members want to be in command or even second-in-command. Something about having a bastard of a boss,” Joseph added, smirking. 

Rupert laughed. 

It was true. 

Joseph was often described by his team as a right bastard and a strict disciplinarian. Rupert was intimately familiar with how severe Joseph could be. They had served in the same Legion unit for two years, participating in dangerous missions. During those two years Rupert had observed Joseph, watched him be strict and exacting but also attentive. He inspired loyalty in his team. 

If Joseph felt Shades was trustworthy, then Rupert would accept him at his word. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“The attendants will be you Shades, Micah, I and Pierre,” said Rupert. 

“Pierre?” asked Joseph. 

“Yes, Pierre,” said Rupert. 

“But I thought it would be Philippe, as he is heir,” replied Joseph. 

“Yes, Philippe is heir but Pierre is firstborn,” said Rupert. “Pierre is better suited for this. Philippe, I am sorry to say would not understand,” explained Rupert. 

“Do you think there will be a problem with him later on, after he is crowned?” asked Shades, voicing the question the other man didn’t want to. 

“There may be but once the rite is completed my younger son will not be able to change Joseph’s status nor interfere with his duties. If he does...let’s just say that the consequences won’t be to his liking,” replied His Majesty. 

“Just for clarification,” began Joseph, “what would be the consequences if he interfered?” 

Rupert looked at both men, his gaze hard. “Dishonour…abdication…death.” 

“But he is your son,” Shades said, shocked. 

“And she is my wife and the bloodline. She takes precedence over everything,” replied His Majesty. 

“Philippe has an heir; a beautiful young daughter who is now almost five years old. My granddaughter! Who I was only allowed to know briefly. He chose to allow her to be raised by her mother in San Francisco rather than here in Genovia,” His Majesty ground out. “I and his mother have been denied the joy of knowing our only grandchild because of his selfishness!” 

Rupert’s fist slammed down on the desk. “I will never forgive him for that! I will never forgive him for taking away my only grandchild! He may be my heir but he will never interfere with the happiness, security or safety of my wife, ever again. If he does…if he tries to interfere… he will pay!” 

Neither Joseph nor Shades said a word as they watched His Majesty turn to stare out the window. 

Joseph had been aware of the emotions between Rupert and his youngest son but hadn’t realized how hurt His Majesty had been when Philippe had made the decision to allow his daughter to be raised in America. He knew Their Majesties received regular updates on their grandchild and Rupert like all proud grandfather’s carried a picture of young Amelia in his wallet. Joseph also knew that there were photo albums filled with pictures of Amelia that Rupert had taken. He often wondered if Clarisse saw the pictures or did Rupert keep them hidden as a way of protecting her. 

Joseph swore silently to himself that if Philippe tried to interfere or do anything that would cause his mother pain Joseph would see to it that he paid and paid dearly.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Their return to the palace had gone off without a hitch. Joseph had met His Majesty, Shades and Micah in the vaults. Joseph had used the hidden passages to travel from the garage area to the palace then down into the vaults. There he waited for the other three men to appear. Now that all four were present Joseph was escorted to the library where he would be secured for three days prior to the rites. The only contact he would have would be with Shades when he delivered his meals three times a day. The meals would consist of bread, wine, cheese and fruit. The cheese and fruit were added to break the monotony of the simple meals. 

Joseph stood in the centre of the library after exchanging handshakes with Micah and Shades. Now Rupert was the only one left, the other men waited outside in the corridor. 

Rupert looked at Joseph. Before him stood his friend, his comrade, his second; a man who would protect, love and defend the woman who to Rupert meant more than his life, his crown and his country. He grabbed Joseph’s hand in his before pulling him into a hug. 

Neither man said a word allowing their actions to speak for themselves. 

Rupert released Joseph, walked to the door and with a nod to Micah watched as the heavy iron door was closed and locked. The next time he would see his friend would be in four days. At that time both their lives would change forever.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The three days passed slowly for all involved. Shades and Micah found themselves spending a lot of time in each other’s company. From Micah, Shades learned the history of the _regina patronus quod paramour_ position along with other historical information. And from Shades, Micah learned a few new interesting uses for some of the weapons in the armoury. 

For Rupert his days were filled with never-ending work coupled with hours of quiet contemplation. His nights were filled with tangible illustrations of his love for Clarisse along with vivid dreams of history past. The smells, the tastes, the feelings from the dreams were so intense it often took him ten minutes upon waking before he was able to distinguish between his dreams and reality. 

For Joseph his days were filled with reading and more reading while his nights were filled with vibrant dreams. Dreams so vivid he could hear, taste, and feel everything in them. In the dreams he would always hold the position of _regina patronus quod paramour_ to Their Majesties. And while his name and appearance changed in the dreams, along with Their Majesties he was always aware of the link that bound each of them regardless of the time or place.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Pierre smiled at Carlos in greeting; it felt good to be back home! Returning the various greetings from the staff Pierre headed directly to his father’s office. Not bothering to knock, he simply opened the door and came to an abrupt halt before leaning against the doorframe to enjoy the view in front of him. 

There stood his father kissing his mother. Pierre couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace and love at seeing them together. He always enjoyed seeing this unrestrained and loving side of his parents. _‘And speaking of loving, I better interrupt before I see more than I should,’_ he thought. 

“Get a room you two,” Pierre said. At his statement his parents broke apart. 

“Pierre!” his mother exclaimed, surprised at seeing her son. She walked over enfolding him in her arms. Pierre took a deep breath, letting her scent wash over him. It was a scent that said ‘home’ to him. 

“Maman,” he said kissing both her cheeks in greeting before releasing her. 

“I thought we had a room,” he father said moving to hug his eldest. 

“Papa,” said Pierre as he returned his father’s hug. He was almost as tall and as broad shouldered as his father. Pierre kissed his father before releasing him. 

Clarisse took Pierre’s hand, dragging him over to the sofa to sit. 

“What are you doing home, mon cher? Not that I am not pleased to see you but isn’t this a bit unexpected?” asked Clarisse, smiling at her son. 

“I requested him to be here for the Rite,” said Rupert. 

“Oh,” replied Clarisse.

Seeing the looks on his parents faces Pierre asked the one question that had been burning inside him since he received the phone call from his father over a week ago. 

“Who?” 

His parents shared a look and as one answered, “Joseph.” 

Pierre had learned about the position of _regina patronus quod paramour_ from Micah and his father years ago and he often wondered if his father would ever approach anyone with the offer. Now his father had and it was the one man that Pierre felt was perfect for the position. 

Pierre smiled. “Perfect,” he said. 

Clarisse looked at her son’s smiling face and asked, “You don’t have a problem with this?” 

Pierre looked at his mother taking her hand in his he said, “Why would I have a problem with Joseph being appointed _regina patronus quod paramour_? He is faithful, honest, dedicated and honourable. He is one of the few men I have met who never lies and regardless of what is asked of him he will always perform his duty above what is expected. Added to that, he loves you maman with his whole heart and soul. He will always put your needs above his own even if it costs him his life!” 

“How do you know he loves me?” asked Clarisse surprised at her son’s declaration. 

“Maman, how can you not know he does?” Pierre asked. “I’ve known for ten years that he loves you. It is there for the entire world to see if you just know where to look,” Pierre explained. 

At his mother’s look of confusion Pierre said, “His eyes, maman. His love for you is in his eyes. He cannot hide it. Oh, he tries to but once you realize it is there it is as easy to see as the nose on your face. Both he and Papa have the same look in their eyes when they gaze at you. That is how I knew…know.” 

“Shouldn’t Philippe be involved in this too?” asked Pierre. “After all he is heir to the throne.” 

“No, Philippe will not know of this until after,” said Rupert. 

“May I ask why or do I need too?” said Pierre. 

The look father and son shared spoke volumes but it was Clarisse who replied. 

“Philippe would not understand. He would see it as unnecessary and barbaric…” 

“Not to mention it would offend his puritan sensibilities,” added Pierre. 

Seeing the look on his mother’s face Pierre said, “Maman admit it, my younger brother is a prude, a prig and an ass. He cares nothing for family as is evident by the fact he gave full custody of his daughter- my niece, your granddaughter- over to her mother without once consulting any of us about his decision; a decision that affects the whole bloody country, the Crown and the Renaldi bloodline. He is an ass and I for one can’t wait to see Joseph put him in his place the first time he tries to impose his morality on you or Papa!” 

Pierre raked a hand through his hair calming himself. Looking at his maman, Pierre apologized. 

“I am sorry maman. I know he is your son and you love him but he makes me so angry with his holier than thou attitude! I sometimes wish I had never abdicated. That I had ignored my calling and simply agreed to be crowned king,” Pierre said. “Or at the very least sired a few dozen children,” he added with a smirk. 

Taking her son’s hand in hers Clarisse replied. “I understand. And as far as the few dozen children you are not a Catholic priest, no vow of celibacy so you can still father a whole brood, after you marry of course,” she added with a smile. 

“From your lips to God’s ear,” Pierre said. 

“You know the offer still stands about arranging a marriage for you,” his father said. “I am sure we could find you a suitable wife.” 

Pierre laughed. “I may take you up on that in a few years, once I have my own parish.” 

“Now I know from the Rites being scheduled that Joe accepted the position but I haven’t heard anything about whether or not you maman have accepted Joe,” said Pierre. “Maman you have accepted him, haven’t you?” 

“I cannot tell you that,” Clarisse said. She wanted to tell both her husband and son her decision but knew she couldn’t, at least not until Joseph was presented to her. 

“I see,” Pierre said, taking his mother’s hand in his and squeezing it in understanding. Deciding that a change of subject was in order Pierre asked, “Is there any chance a growing man can get something to eat? I’m starving!” 

Pierre smiled at his parent’s laughter. _‘Yes, it is good to be home,’_ he thought.

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 25**

 

Pierre sat on the library sofa, a glass of whiskey in hand and a book resting on his lap. He had retired to his suite after dinner, but found himself too restless to stay there. He decided a walk was in order and as was usual for him his walk led him to the library. Now seated in the quiet library with only a small reading lamp illuminating the room he found himself wrestling with his actions over the past few months. 

“I thought I might find you here,” his father’s voice said from the shadows before stepping into the light and seating himself next to his eldest son. 

“Papa, I didn’t expect…” Pierre began stopping when his father waved away any excuse. Knocking back the whiskey in hand Pierre stood and walked to the small table to pour himself another. “May I get you one?” he asked his father. 

“Please,” said Rupert. 

Pierre poured two full measures of whiskey before carrying both glasses over to the sofa and handing his father one. Rupert took a small sip from his glass, enjoying the burn of the whiskey while observing his son. 

“Is there something wrong mon petit renard?” Rupert asked, using his son’s nickname. Rupert waited for his son to answer. He knew something was bothering his eldest son. He also knew he would eventually tell him what it was; he just needed to wait. 

Pierre took a sip of his whiskey, leant forward, his elbows on his knees, his glass held between his hands and said, “I went to visit Helen in San Francisco.” 

His father’s hiss of in drawn breath was loud in the quiet room. 

“When?” 

“Three months ago.” 

Silence greeted his statement and Pierre chanced a look at his father. The emotions on his father’s face ranged from disbelief to anger to excitement to sorrow. 

In a quiet voice Rupert asked, “Did you see her?” 

Pierre placed his glass down on the coffee table in front of him. Taking his father’s hands in his he answered, “Oui, Papa. Elle est belle, douce et adorable! Papa, I wish you could have seen her! She is perfect!” 

“Helen didn’t tell her who I was just that I was a friend of her papa. But Papa, she is so much like Philippe! While I was there she was practicing her letters, and she stuck her tongue between her teeth just like Philippe does when he is concentrating,” Pierre said. “And her temper! Oh, she has the Renaldi temper! She threw a fit when it was time for her to take a bath and go to bed. She wanted to stay up and visit more but she was so tired and Helen was adamant that she get ready for bed.” 

“What did Helen say about your visit?” asked Rupert. 

“She was angry at first. She thought I was there to try to…” 

“To take Amelia…Mia…” Rupert finished. 

“Yes,” said Pierre. “But I told her I wasn’t there for any reason other than to see Mia. I just wanted to meet my niece and maybe spend some time getting to know both of them. Helen agreed to allow me to spend time with Mia while I was in San Francisco. But she made it clear I was not to tell Mia who I was or anything about her father or his family, that was her place and if I didn’t agree she would have to ask me to leave.” 

“And did you agree?” 

Pierre looked down at his father’s and his hands. “Yes, I did,” whispered Pierre. 

He cleared his throat. 

“I spent three days visiting with them. Papa, I wanted so badly to just grab Mia and leave with her,” he said, “…to contact the Genovian consulate, order security to retrieve us both and place us on the first flight to Genovia!” 

“But I didn’t, and after I said my goodbyes and left.” 

“There is more though isn’t there?” Rupert asked. 

Pierre nodded. “Yes.” 

Rupert waited for Pierre to continue. 

“I went to see Philippe in Dubai.” 

“Pierre.” His name conveyed more than multiple sentences ever could. 

“Don’t worry Papa, he is still breathing. Bruised but breathing,” said Pierre. 

“Dammit Pierre!” his father yelled. “What have I told you about…?” 

“Papa, Philippe won’t mention ‘our talk’ to anyone. One reason is he doesn’t want anyone to know his priest of a brother gave him a right pasting. The other is…” 

“I don’t care! I ought to take a cane to you for your actions,” said Rupert glaring at his oldest son. He could just see the headlines and reactions if the media caught scent of this not to mention Clarisse. Taking a deep breath Rupert asked, “And what will you say to your Mother if she hears about this?” 

Pierre paled at the thought of his mother finding out about his actions. 

“Exactly!” his father said. “You didn’t think about that, did you? All I have to say is that YOU,” Rupert pointed at his son, “are on your own if she hears one iota about this.” 

“But...,” Pierre said. 

“I suggest finding bolt holes. Lots of them,” said Rupert. 

“Merde!”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The feel of his Queen’s skin beneath his hands, the taste of her on his tongue caused his hand to drift to his erection to ease the ache there. Three strokes were all it took before he came, his shout of _Luciana_ echoing loudly in the room before quiet reigned once more.

An hour passed before the sound of hand moving across skin was heard again. The groan of _Marguerite_ was heard then silence. A few hours passed before hand on skin was heard once again, this time a shout of ‘ _Carolina’_ broke the silence before stillness settled over the room. 

As dawn broke over Genovia, the rhythmic sound of hand on skin was heard once again followed by the shout of _Mirielle_. 

Joseph woke; his dreams and the promise of ‘ _soon’_ skirted the edge of his conscious mind. He wasn’t surprised to find evidence of his release coating the sheets and his stomach. It had been the same for the past three nights. Dreams filled with loving his Queen in all her guises. 

He stripped the bed of the soiled sheets and walked to the small en-suite bath to shower. Wrapped in a towel Joseph waited for the arrival of Shades and Micah. 

The two men would assist him in dressing and then escort him to the Cathedral sanctuary where he would swear his oath and receive his marks of office as _regina patronus quod paramour_. 

Joseph stood when he heard the key turn in the door. 

He smiled in greeting as the two men entered the library. Finally, the day had arrived! 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Sunlight greeted the three men as they exited the palace from the hidden passage. A limousine waited for them. Micah and Shades were dressed in short tunics, with ankle length bracae or trousers underneath. Shades tunic was a dark green plaid pattern, with dark green bracae and Micah’s was plaid saffron with solid saffron bracae. Each man wore heavy neck rings made of beaten gold, head and arm bands. Each was armed with a short sword hanging from a thick leather belt. Their crisscrossed leather boots and garters completed the outfits. 

Joseph was dressed similarly but unlike the other two men he was bare-chested. His bracae were black. Around his neck hung a heavy gold and jewelled torc and his upper arms and wrists were encased in gold cuffs. In his ear was a heavy gold hoop. His head was bare. Hanging from his belt was a short sword and a jewelled dagger was strapped to his right calf. His black leather boots and crisscrossed garters completed his outfit. 

Each man looked like an ancient Gaul warrior. 

All three entered the limo, and Shades signalled they were ready. The drive to the Cathedral took only twenty minutes as traffic was light. They entered the Cathedral from the security entrance on the side. 

The interior was illuminated by sunlight filtering in from the stained glass and the men silently made their way down the main aisle to the sanctuary. Each man genuflected at the base of the stairs that led to the altar before rising to join the men already positioned before the altar. 

Candles illuminated the altar and incense filled the air with the scent and smoke of pine, myrrh, frankincense and sandalwood. Joseph noticed the brazier to the left of the altar. Its heat rippled the air above it. 

Rupert stepped forward bare-chested, dressed in dark blue bracae, boots and garters complete with jewellery, crown and armaments. But where the other men were without cloaks, Rupert sported a wolf fur cloak; a heavy jewelled clasp secured it around his shoulders. 

Shades stood next to Joseph while Micah stood next to His Majesty. The four men turned as one to face the Archbishop and his attendants. 

The Archbishop began. 

“For thousands of years the blood-lines of Genovia have offered the position of one who serves to one who is worthy. The position is one of protector, of sentinel, of companion and of lover. The offering of this position is not to be entered into lightly nor is its commission to be handled carelessly. This position is offered only once, and once accepted he who holds the position is no longer in charge of his destiny. His destiny and life is inextricably linked with the blood. 

If the blood falters, he falters. 

If the blood weakens, he weakens. 

If the blood ceases, he ceases. 

Has the Renaldi blood found a man worthy who is prepared to accept this position?” 

“Yes, it has,” replied His Majesty. 

“And what is this man’s name?” asked the Archbishop. 

“José Joseph Alejandro Calvera Ramirez,” answered His Majesty. 

“José Joseph Alejandro Calvera Ramirez, please step forward and kneel,” the Archbishop instructed. 

Joseph moved forward with Shades directly behind him. He knelt in front of the Archbishop, his back ramrod straight his eyes locked on the man in front of him. 

“José Joseph Alejandro Calvera Ramirez, do you understand the position that is being offered to you?” 

“Yes, I do,” Joseph answered. 

“Do you swear to abide by the edicts of the blood? To protect, defend and preserve the Renaldi blood-line even unto death? Do you swear to execute your duties regardless of their consequences? Do you swear this by your life, your blood and your honour?” 

“Yes, I do so swear,” answered Joseph.

“Do you swear to place she who is the root of the blood-line before all others? To execute any order or directive from her even if it means your death or dishonour? Do you swear to place her needs before your own? To cater to her needs both physically and emotionally, regardless of their effect on you? Do you swear this by your life, your blood and your honour?” 

“I do so swear,” answered Joseph. 

“Do you José Joseph Alejandro Calvera Ramirez accept the position of _regina patronus quod paramour_ to the Renaldi blood-line?” 

“I do so accept,” Joseph answered. 

Turning to His Majesty, the Archbishop asked. “Do you Rupert Pierre Renaldi, son of Arturo Rupert Renaldi and descendent of Chevelair Renaldi accept this man as _regina patronus quod paramour_ to Clarisse Mignonette Gerard Renaldi, foundation of the Renaldi blood-line? Do you accept him as protector, sentinel, companion and lover to She who is the foundation of the blood-line? Do you accept him as one who serves the blood without reservation or deterrent? Do you accept him by your life, your blood and your honour?” 

“I so accept him,” His Majesty answered. 

“Then kneel,” the Archbishop ordered. 

Rupert knelt next to Joseph, Micah behind him as witness. 

Pierre brought forward tray, a white linen towel draped over his arm. On the tray lay a small gold ring, a cruet of holy water and a small bowl. Blessing the ring, the Archbishop rinsed it with holy water then turned back to the two men kneeling in front of him. 

“This ring, as with all rings has no beginning and no end. It is a tangible and visible representation of your oath today and from this day forward should be worn by you Jose Joseph Alejandro Calvera Ramirez as a sign of your oath to the Renaldi blood-line. Rupert, please take this ring and repeat after me,” instructed the Archbishop. 

Rupert took the ring and waited to repeat the words that would bind Joseph to the Renaldi blood-line. 

“I, Rupert Pierre Renaldi, King of Genovia…” 

“I, Rupert Pierre Renaldi, King of Genovia,” repeated Rupert. 

“…do hereby accept José Joseph Alejandro Calvera Ramirez as _regina patronus quod paramour’_ to the Renaldi blood, for now until the end of time.” 

“…do hereby accept Jose Joseph Alejandro Calvera Ramirez as _regina patronus quod paramour’_ to the Renaldi blood, for now until the end of time.” repeated Rupert, sliding the ring onto Joseph’s right pinkie. 

“Joseph, the ring is an outward sign of your oath to the Renaldi blood. It is a token of the office and position that you hold. But there is another token of office that must be bestowed on you before your name can be recorded as _regina patronus quod paramour_ to the Renaldi blood-line. Are you ready to receive this token of office?” the Archbishop asked. 

“Yes. I am,” Joseph answered. Rupert and Joseph stood and all four men followed His Grace over to the brazier and kneeling bench before it. 

Kneeling, Joseph hooked his arms over the top of the bench no surprised when Shades and Micah secured his arms to the sides of the bench. 

“Are you ready Joseph?” Rupert asked. 

“Yes.” 

Rupert accepted the handled heated brand from one of the attendants. He positioned himself behind Joe and signalled with a nod of his head to Shades and Micah. Each man leaned their weight against Joe’s arms to keep him still. 

The brand seared into the upper left shoulder skin of Joseph filling the air of the sanctuary with the smell of burnt skin. Joe gritted his teeth against the pain of the branding. He knew no one would look down on him if he screamed, but he was determined to bear the branding stoically. Less than a minute passed before the brand was removed, and as soon as it was one of the attendants smeared the area with a cool, healing salve. 

Joseph was released and with the help of Shades and Micah was able to stand. Joseph walked, albeit shakily, over to the altar and knelt. Rupert knelt next to him. Shades and Micah took their positions behind both men. 

“José Joseph Alejandro Calvera Ramirez has accepted and been accepted as _regina patronus quod paramour_ to the Renaldi blood-line,” His Grace said. “Let his name be recorded, from this day forward as one who serves the blood-line and may his service to the blood be performed with honour and diligence.” 

“And may God grant you His favour,” His Grace said, before blessing both His Majesty and Joseph.

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 26**

 

“Oh good, your awake,” the voice to Joe’s right said. Joe blinked his eyes blearily. His head pounded and his mouth was dry. He reached for the water on the bedside table.

“I’d drink it slowly if I were you. The headache will go away once you eat and drink the wine,” the voice said.

Joe looked to his right and noticed the man sitting in the chair. He was dressed in…Joe shook his head, closed his eyes, reopened them…no, he was still there.

“Yes, I am still here. Yes, I am real. No, you are not going crazy. Yes, it could be the result of the wine. No…”

“Morning Joe,” said Shades as he walked into the bedroom after placing the tray with bread, wine and fruit on the low table in the sitting room.

“How do you feel? Brand bothering you?” he asked.

Joe looked from Shades to the man sitting in the chair and back again.

“Something wrong, boss?” asked Shades.

After the ceremony yesterday, and their return to the castle, Joe had been given drugged wine that Micah said would relax him enough to allow him to sleep. Micah had then cleaned the brand, smoothed more of salve on it and after coaxing two more goblets of wine into Joe, had helped to put a very intoxicated and stoned Head of Security to bed.

“He can’t see me.”

“He can’t?” asked Joe.

“Who can’t, boss?” asked Shades.

“Huh?” Joe asked, confused. His head was still pounding, his thoughts fuzzy and he felt... good.

Shades looked into Joe’s eyes and let loose a low whistle.

“Damn boss, you’re higher than a kite,” said Shades. “How do you feel?”

Joe tried to say fine but instead heard himself say, “Headache. Feels like my brain is cotton…good…I feel good.”

Shades chuckled. “I can imagine.”

“Think you can shower without help?” asked Shades, watching the older man as he climbed out of bed.

“Yea, I think so,” Joe answered, glancing over at the chair.

“Still here,” the stranger said. “Why don’t you get a shower, let your young friend do whatever he needs to do and then once he leaves I’ll answer any questions you may have.”

Joe grunted in response. He didn’t think it would be a good idea to answer the man while Shades was in the room.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Shades cleaned and treated the brand while Joe lay on the massage table in the living room.

“All done Joe,” he said, wiping his hands on a towel and capping the jar of salve.

“Thanks Shades,” Joe said, sitting up and accepting the goblet of wine from the younger man. Joe stood, completely nude.

“No problem Joe. I’ll see you later,” said Shades as he gathered the remnants of Joe’s breakfast, leaving the jug of wine on the table before exiting.

Once Joe heard the key in the lock turn, and he knew he was alone, he turned to look at the man sitting in one of the leather chairs.

“Who the hell are you?” Joe growled. For some reason Joe was sure this man was not a figment of his imagination or the result of the drugged wine he was drinking. How he was sure he didn’t know, but he would swear on his life that this man was real. Also, he looked vaguely familiar.

The man stood, executed a perfect courtly bow, and introduced himself, “Frederick Antoine Jacques, 2nd Margrave of Delkson, and _Regina Patronus Quod Paramour_ to Queen Marguerite Renaldi-Delkson, at your service.”

Joe simply stared at the man.

Jacques smiled, not in the least surprised at Joseph’s reaction. “Now sit down, Señor José Joseph Alejandro Calvera Ramirez, we have much to discuss and little time to do it in,” Jacques ordered.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Joseph absently ate the lunch that was delivered to him by Micah, his thoughts on the previous meeting with Frederick Jacques. According to Jacques, as he was called, those that hold or have held the position of _‘regina patronus quod paramour’_ to the Renaldi blood were connected by their service. This connection allowed those in service to communicate with each other. How, Jacques did not know, but it enabled those who had gone before to communicate with the one serving now. And while this communication was limited to just the three days prior to acceptance by She who was served, it allowed enough time to relate information that was not included in the diaries.

While the diaries were supposed to be secured, there was always a chance that they could fall into the wrong hands, and many of the secrets those who served held were too dangerous to write down. This brief time allowed these secrets to be revealed. The secrets would die with the one who served, either at the end of his natural life, or when he was put to death at Her refusal to accept his service.

Jacques had revealed information he held on three of the most powerful families in Genovia, the Mabreys, the Palimores and the Devereauxes.

Of the three, Jacques had cautioned the Mabrey family was the most dangerous, and as they were related to the Devereaux family both bore watching. The Palimores were not dangerous but Jacques did caution that they be watched. They held quite a bit of power, power that could be used against the Crown.

For the next three days Joseph could expect visits from previous _regina patronus quod paramour_ intent on revealing secrets to him. He was also informed the visits would, and often did take a more personal turn. Those that served often used this time to impart advice and counsel to the newest member.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Two days had passed. Joseph no longer wondered if these visits were the result of his imagination or the wine. He simply accepted them.

Joseph had been visited by Jacques once again, Robert McNamara, and Darius Collinwood. Joe had enjoyed McNamara’s and Collinwood’s visit but it was clear that while Mac, as he was called had enjoyed his time in service, Collinwood had never had the chance to fulfil his service as _quod paramour_. His Queen had no interest in allowing him to fulfil his service in that area. Collinwood had cautioned Joseph about the heartache that resulted from such a decision. And while Collinwood served for well over twenty years faithfully and with distinction he still considered his service a failure. Joseph could well understand the man’s feeling of failure. He would feel the same if his Queen, his Clarisse never allowed him to fulfil his service as _quod paramour_.

Joseph was now speaking with Marcus Kensington and Armand Fitzhugh. Fitzhugh had been _regina patronus quod paramour’_ during the Viterbo Massacre. Mabrey, Delacroix and Simmons were the three families tied to the Viterbo business but there was no concrete proof to establish their guilt. Fitzhugh had been unable to carry out executions on the families; which meant the three families still retained their power in Genovia. He agreed with Fitzhugh and Marcus that the Mabreys were the ones to watch.

During their long talk Marcus and Fitzhugh were more than happy to relate tales of their Queens for Joseph. Little was left to the imagination, and by the time the two men had left Joseph was feeling the effects of the racy tales combined with the drugged wine.

Joseph glanced at the clock and noted that it was almost time for his daily massage. He hoped Angelina was not the masseuse this time. While he knew either Pierre, Shades or Micah would accompany her he didn’t know if he could withstand her advances this time. Last time he had almost begged for her to bring him to release. If she offered this time he wasn’t sure he would refuse.

And while he knew it wouldn’t influence Her Majesty’s decision, as everything that happened during this time was never revealed, he didn’t know if he could or would be able to forgive himself if he allowed another woman to touch and stroke him, bringing him to completion.

Hearing the key in the door, Joseph moved to the table and lay down, adjusting his body so that his erection was flat against the table, he waited. At Angelina and Shades’ greetings Joseph gritted his teeth in preparation. This was going to be a long hour.

 

~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Joseph slept deeply and woke to the sound of the key turning in the lock. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Joseph rose from the bed and headed directly to the shower. After showering he entered the living room, surprised to see His Majesty waiting for him.

“Your Majesty,” Joseph knelt, his head bowed.

Joseph hadn’t seen His Majesty since the ceremony. Tears filled his eyes as he knelt in front of his King. This was the man who had offered and accepted his service to the bloodline. Joseph was unable to stop his tears or the sobs that escaped him.

Rupert knelt down in front of his friend, taking him in his arms. Rocking Joseph, Rupert whispered words of solace to him as he cried. Minutes passed before Joseph was able to regain control of his emotions and Rupert released him. Joseph wiped the tears from his eyes.

“I’m sorry Your Majesty,” Joseph said.

“No apology is necessary Joe,” Rupert answered.

Rupert stood, helped Joseph to his feet and poured a goblet of wine for both of them, handing one to Joseph before drinking his in one long swallow. He refilled his and emptied it in two gulps before refilling it for a third time.

Rupert walked over to one of the leather chairs and sank into it gratefully. “That packs one hell of a punch,” he said looking at his goblet.

“Yes, it does,” Joseph agreed, concerned.

“Don’t worry Joe, I know it’s drugged. I am also aware of its side effects,” said Rupert as he took a small sip. “We need to talk, and this is the only way I can assure there is no question of what I say being misconstrued. The wine doesn’t allow for lying or omission.”

Rupert took another sip of his wine.

“I want you to fulfil your position of _quod paramour_ within the year,” Rupert said, not surprised at Joe’s indrawn hiss of breath. Rupert held up his hand to forestall any argument from Joe. “Before you say anything I want you to understand why I am asking this of you.”

“Explain,” said Joe.

“I am going to die within the next ten years.”

“No,” said Joseph.

“Yes, my friend. Somehow I have always known I would never live to see either of my sons crowned king. Don’t ask how I know, just that I do. I know that my death will be devastating to Genovia, but not as devastating as it will be to Clarisse. Publicly, she will maintain a façade that will hide the worst of her pain, but privately she will be completely shattered. It will be up to you to support her, to offer her comfort and keep her from ‘losing it’.”

“Your sons..,” began Joseph.

Rupert interrupted. “Our sons…our sons will be of little use. Oh, don’t get me wrong, Pierre will be able to console and comfort his mother as will Philippe. But neither of them will be able to keep her from slipping into despair. Philippe will be too wrapped up in his own pain; it wouldn’t surprise me if he refused to be crowned immediately. In his selfishness, he will force his mother to bear the weight of the Crown while he _deals_ ,” Rupert spat this word, “with his own grief. He will see little of his mother’s pain.  As for Pierre, he will be a rock for Clarisse. But he cannot help her with the running of the country nor be available to her daily. His calling will prevent that. I know he will try his best to be there for her, but in the end his own responsibilities will take precedence over Genovia. And that is how it should be, for his calling is one that requires such sacrifice.”

“That leaves you Joe. It will fall to you to comfort, to console and to help Clarisse live day to day after my death,” said Rupert. “I know you will be as devastated as Clarisse at my death, but I also know that you have experienced losing someone you loved above all others…”

“Elena,” Joe whispered.

“Yes, Elena. You lost your wife almost twenty years ago, and I know that there isn’t a day that goes by that you don’t miss her. Only you will understand the pain and anguish Clarisse will experience at my death. I know from your own admission that you love Clarisse. How long have you loved her?”

“Ten years. I didn’t even realize I fell in love with her all those years ago. It was just suddenly there one day. I didn’t even admit it to myself until a few months ago. It was after the Swiss trip. I saw her as she waited for you in your suite..,” Joe tried to stop talking but was compelled to finish.

“…dressed in only her stockings, garters and heels. I could see how wet she was, and when she caressed her breasts I wanted it to be my hands caressing her. And when she tasted herself, I wanted to feast on her.”

“She tastes incredible. Like honey,” said Rupert.

“Dios mío!” said Joe. He could feel his shaft become erect. He was nude and there was no way to hide his reaction to Rupert’s words.

“You will soon discover how sweet she tastes,” said Rupert as he licked his lips in memory of Clarisse’s taste.

Silence reigned for a few minutes before Rupert spoke once more.

“I want you in her…our bed and part of our lives before my death. So when I die, she will have someone to lean on, love, and grieve with; someone who will offer more than words,” said Rupert.

Joseph couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Alone or together? Do you want me to make love to her alone or will we love her together?”

“Either. Both. It matters not to me,” said Rupert. “I’ve never thought about another man joining me in bed with Clarisse, but if that is what you want, for both of us to make love to her together than I agree. Or, if you want to make love to her alone than that is acceptable also; either or both.”

“What do you think Clarisse would want?” asked Joe.

“Both of us, I think,” said Rupert. “I’ve watched her reaction when you interrupt her. I think she would be intrigued.”

“Honestly?” Joseph asked.

Rupert raised his wine goblet in answer and Joe grinned. The wine allowed no lying.

“But I think we will have to use a subtle approach. We can’t just show up in bed waiting for her. This is going to require a plan. A well thought out plan,” said Rupert.

Joseph nodded his head in agreement and soon the two men were deep in planning the seduction of their Queen.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Rupert finished off his fifth goblet of wine and helped himself to some of the bread and cheese that Shades delivered. Joe had ordered Shades to wait for His Majesty, so he could escort him to his suite once they were finished. Rupert’s pupils were dilated as was his. Both men were stoned as Shades succinctly worded it. Joseph finished off his wine and poured another holding it up in question for Rupert.

“No, Joe. If I have another I won’t be able to walk. And I don’t relish sleeping down here in the vaults when I have a lovely bed with an even a lovelier wife waiting for me upstairs,” said Rupert. He grinned unrepentantly at Joe’s growl of annoyance.

“Don’t worry old friend. Our plan will work and soon you will be able to claim having the same lovely Queen occupying your…our…a bed,” Rupert said, his words slurred slightly.

“Jesus, that wine packs a hell of a punch,” Rupert said as he popped another piece of cheese into his mouth.

“I hope you are correct about the plan,” said Joseph, grabbing some cheese before Rupert ate it all.

“I am. We are scheduled for two international meetings in Brussels later in the month. They will last for two weeks. Clarisse will remain here as her schedule is filled. We will call her every night and slowly begin our seduction over the phone. By the time we get back she, and we will be ready to take the next step.”

“I just hope I can survive the phone calls,” said Joe.

“You and me both,” Rupert said. He knew from experience how much a tease Clarisse was, Joe would learn in time. “Besides if it gets too difficult we can always fly home. After all, I am King of Genovia. I am sure no one will complain if I leave early,” Rupert added grinning.

“There is that,” agreed Joseph.

Rupert yawned loudly, not bothering to cover his mouth. “My friend it is time for me to go before I fall asleep down here.”

Placing a hand on Joseph’s shoulder he added, “Don’t worry my friend. I know we are making these plans prior to her accepting you, but I know in my heart that she WILL accept you. By this time tomorrow you will be Hers officially.”

“And what am I now?” Joe asked.

“Mine,” answered Rupert.

“But I am more than willing to allow Her to have you. Trust in her my friend. All will be well,” Rupert said, squeezing Joe’s shoulder before hollering for Shades.

“Shades, allons-y! Before I fall asleep,” said Rupert as he walked out of the library. Shades wished Joe a goodnight before securing the door.

Rupert slung an arm around Shades’ shoulders as they walked down the corridor. Shades couldn’t keep from smiling as His Majesty proceeded to sing some rather bawdy songs.

As Shades closed the elevator door, he turned to look at His Majesty who was leaning against the rear of the elevator, his arms crossed and a goofy smile on his face.

“Sir, I think you are stoned,” said Shades.

“I think you are correct Shades. I think you are correct,” Rupert laughed before he began to sing once again.

Shades simply shook his head.

Life at the palace was interesting to say the least.

 

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 27**

 

Rupert continued to sing as he showered, his choice of bawdy drinking songs bringing a smile to his valet, James’ face. It was rare for His Majesty to indulge to the point of intoxication, but it seemed this afternoon and evening he had done just that. James placed a large carafe of ice water and a few painkillers on the bedside table for His Majesty in the morning, gathered his clothes and with one last look around to make sure nothing was amiss, exited Their Majesties suite for the evening.

Her Majesty would be returning from her opening of the Art Gallery soon and he knew from his previous conversation with Margaret that she was not requiring her services this evening. The Royal Couple would enjoy their privacy this evening.

Rupert exited the shower, not bothering to dry off. He lay down on the bed nude, intent on air drying before dressing. But his good intentions fell by the wayside as his eyes closed and he slipped into sleep.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse entered the suite, surprised at not finding Rupert waiting for her in the sitting room. Moving to the bedroom she stopped at the doorway entranced at the sight that greeted her. There in the middle of their bed lay her very handsome and very nude husband. His arms were akimbo and he sported a very nice erection. Clarisse could feel herself becoming wet at the sight.

Moving to the bed she noted that Rupert was sleeping deeply and from the way his eyes moved under his lids he was also dreaming. Clarisse quickly stripped out of her clothes, laying her dress on the chair for Margaret to collect the next morning. In the bathroom, Clarisse hurriedly showered, dried and applied lotion before re-entering the bedroom. She reached inside her bedside table and removed the locked box that resided there. Opening the combination lock she removed a few items she had purchased for herself and Rupert a few years ago when she visited Amsterdam, before relocking and replacing the box. Sliding into bed she moved closer to her still sleeping husband. She took a moment to enjoy the sight of him before she started to play.

Gently taking one of his arms, Clarisse fastened a soft leather cuff and leash to one wrist then repeated the same for the other. Lifting up his arms, she fastened the leashes to the headboard. She glanced at her husband’s face, pleased that he was still asleep. She next slid a soft, supple strap ring around Rupert’s testicles and shaft. She gently fastened it, making sure not to wake him and sat back to admire her handiwork.

Since discovering his offer of _regina patronus quod paramour_ to Joseph, Clarisse had felt the need to re-establish control over at least a part of her life. And while it was rare for her to indulge her dominant side with Rupert, tonight was one of those rare times. Rupert would have no problem ceding control to her.

Clarisse started to slowly wake her husband. First, she kissed him, placing soft kisses on his lips, his nose and his cheeks, before tracing the soft shape of his lips. She delved inside his mouth to tease his tongue and couldn’t contain a moan of satisfaction when he began to respond. While she kissed him her hands trailed over his chest, down his sides and skimmed over his erection. She knew the moment he awakened.

“Clarisse..” Rupert murmured sleepily.

“Shh… my love. Relax,” Clarisse said kissing him, then leaning back to watch his face.

Rupert tried to move his arms to hold his wife. He couldn’t and wondered why. It took him a few minutes to figure out the why and when he finally looked at his wife he saw her Cheshire smile.

“Ma reine…?”

“Shh…mon loup,” Clarisse said. Clarisse stared into Rupert’s eyes noting his dilated pupils. “Que faisais-tu aujourd'hui?”

“I went to visit Joseph,” replied Rupert. “We drank wine.”

Clarisse didn’t allow her surprise to show at this information. She was well aware the wine that Joseph was drinking was drugged, which meant Rupert was experiencing the effects of the drugged wine.

“Are you comfortable mon loup?” asked Clarisse as she continued to lightly caress Rupert’s chest.

“Yes,” answered Rupert, moaning when Clarisse scratched at his nipples.

“Do you mind if I play?” she asked her gaze on his.

“Non, ma reine _…_ ” he answered, his use of her title conveying his acceptance.

Clarisse smiled at his acceptance then moved to straddle his waist. She felt Rupert’s breath hitch as her wet centre settled onto his abdomen. Clarisse leaned forward and captured Rupert’s lips in a soft kiss. She traced their shape applying little pressure to them before slipping inside to gently tangle with his tongue.

Rupert couldn’t stop the moan that escaped from him as his wife kissed him. He could feel her wetness coating his stomach and the heat from her buttocks near his cock. He shifted his hips to bring her into closer contact with his shaft and whimpered when she shifted forward, away from his cock.

Clarisse grabbed Rupert’s hair, forcing his head back. She looked into his eyes and growled, “I am in control.”

Rupert’s arousal ratcheted higher at her stern voice. “Oui, ma reine. Je suis désolé _.”_

Rupert moaned when Clarisse plundered his mouth and raked her nails across his nipples. As he returned her kisses with equal passion he felt Clarisse’s hand move to his shaft and her body shift. Without warning, Clarisse sank down onto him and Rupert howled at the feel of her wet heat surrounding him. Rupert watched as she rode him hard and fast, her hands braced against his chest. Her breasts moved in counterpoint to her hips. He wanted to caress and suckle her breasts as she rode him to orgasm but his restraints prevented him from moving. But that didn’t stop him from pulling at them as he thrust up into her hot channel.

Clarisse increased her speed, her hand sliding down to finger her clit. She was so close. She could feel her orgasm building. She rotated her hips in counterpoint to Rupert’s thrusts, his shaft surging deeply into her. Oh she was so close… _just a few more thrusts…oh god…yes…again…harder…oh yes…right there_ …flicking her clit she came, her body shuddering in ecstasy.

She lay panting against her husband’s chest for a few minutes. Recovered, she sat up and moaned in pleasure at the feel of Rupert’s hard cock still buried within her. She slowly rotated her hips and the moans from Rupert brought a smile of delight to her face.

He hadn’t come and the feel of her surrounding him was driving him mad. His feet were now planted flat on the bed, his knees bent and he thrust up into her as hard as he could. He felt her shift forward and he hoped she would release his arms so he could flip them over. He wanted to fuck her hard and fast. He wanted to feel her legs on his shoulders and his cock slamming into her. He wanted to feel her orgasm race through her as he fucked her. He wanted…he wanted…

“Clarisse…ma reine…please… please,” begged Rupert as he pulled against his restraints. For a brief moment they held and then he was suddenly free. He grabbed at his wife and flipped them over thrusting fast and hard into her soft body.

Clarisse clutched at Rupert’s shoulders as he mindlessly plunged into her, his control shattered. He thrusts were hard, fast and erratic. His only thought was to come and his actions illustrated that need. Rupert failed to hear the pleas of his wife as he plunged into her. He barely felt her nails rake his back as he slammed into her hot channel.

 _Just a few more minutes and he would explode! He could feel it building and he knew_ …Clarisse’s hand slipped down between their bodies. She released the strap ring and Rupert drove into her harder, and faster forcing her higher, and higher until she came. Rupert’s orgasm followed almost immediately, and his roar of release was loud. He collapsed exhausted, and replete onto Clarisse, his body shuddering in response to his orgasm.

Clarisse caressed her husband’s shuddering body then shifted so Rupert lay on the bed. She stood and straightened up, placing everything away before sliding back into bed. Rupert pulled her close to him.

“Rupert?”

“Hmm?” he replied sleepily.

“What did you discuss with Joseph?”

“You.”

“What about me?” she asked. Clarisse knew she shouldn’t be asking Rupert any questions, the wine he drank didn’t allow him to lie. But she couldn’t resist not knowing.

“…both…going to seduce you…use phone,” he replied, before he slipped into sleep.

Clarisse gasped in shock. ‘Seduce me?’ she thought. ‘How dare…,’ angry at first, Clarisse quickly smiled, a calculating look gracing her face.

“So they want to seduce me, do they?” she murmured. “Well boys, we will see who seduces who,” she said.

It was time she took control of both her men. It was time to put into practice the lessons she learned from her predecessors!

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Joseph woke early.

Today was the day.

Today he would be presented to Her Majesty.

Today he would either be accepted as _quod paramour_ or his life would end.

Joseph showered, shaved, and entered the sitting room in record time. When Shades opened the door forty-five minutes later he was surprised to see Joe sitting in one of the chairs and reading.

“Good morning Joe,” greeted Shades.

“Good morning Shades.” Joe stood, walked over to Shades and sat on the massage table. He waited patiently as Shades cleaned and treated his brand. He then lay down to allow Shades to lotion his body. Once Shades was finished Joseph stood once more and accepted the goblet of wine from Shades.

This wine was stronger than what he had been drinking. As soon as Joe finished the goblet he felt the difference. Every sense sharpened and his skin prickled with gooseflesh. The slightest touch to him caused a pleasurable reaction and he couldn’t stop the moans that escaped.

“Sit Joe,” Shades instructed, helping the older man to the chair. Shades sat the carafe of wine and goblet near Joe. Gathering the towels and other items Shades left. He would return later as escort to Their Majesties.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse hummed to herself as she put her makeup on. She smiled when she saw her husband stagger to the bathroom, close the door and proceed to shower and shave. Ten minutes later a livelier man exited the bathroom.

“You look much better coming out then going in,” Clarisse said, enjoying the view of her towel clad husband.

“At least now I feel human,” Rupert said. He bent to place a soft kiss on Clarisse’s cheek. Clarisse turned so his kiss landed on her lips rather than her cheek. Rupert pulled his wife into his arms, changing the soft kiss into a more passionate one.

“Hmm…good morning,” he said.

 “Good morning to you too,” she said as she kissed his nose, and slipped out of his arms to finish dressing.

Rupert began to dress in the clothes James had prepared for him. As he dressed he tried to remember exactly what happened last night. He found his memory a bit fuzzy. He remembered everything with Joseph, leaving the vaults and singing. He even remembered showering and climbing into bed but everything after was a bit fuzzy.

“Did I do anything last night I should be ashamed of or embarrassed about?” he asked Clarisse as he tied his tie.

Clarisse moved up behind him to look at him in the mirror. “Define embarrassed,” she teased.

“Clarisse…,” Rupert said. “Please tell me. Did I or did I not do anything I should be embarrassed about?”

“You can’t remember?” she asked.

“My memory is a bit fuzzy after I returned to our suite. I remember everything up to and including showering but not much after,” he said. “Now please tell me. Did I do anything I should be embarrassed about?”

“No. No, you did nothing to be embarrassed about,” said Clarisse, the long slow look that accompanied her words caused Rupert to shift nervously.

“Clarisse, please.”

Clarisse whispered her answer in his ear and she laughed when she saw his blush.

“Okay. Not embarrassed or ashamed,” he said. He turned and took Clarisse in his arms. “Really?” he asked.

At her nod he smiled, then frowned. “I wish I could remember it.”

Clarisse smoothed the front of his shirt and straightened his tie. “Don’t worry, I do,” she said huskily. She kissed him and then moved out of his embrace.

“Breakfast time,” said Clarisse as she slid a scarf around her neck and exited their suite.

Rupert followed.

He still wished he could remember details from last night. It would be nice to remember making love to his wife. He shrugged, and decided not to worry about it. After all, it wasn’t as if he revealed anything important. Clarisse would have told him if he had; of that, he was sure.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Joseph’s skin tingled and his body hummed with anticipation. His body was reacting to the stimuli from the room. The air, the scents even the feel of the carpet beneath his feet were contributing to his body’s reaction. He was half hard and knew as soon as he caught scent of her perfume, he would be fully erect.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Her Majesty’s arrival. His thoughts raced around his head. He absently twisted the ring on his pinkie as he waited for her to come. He didn’t know how long he sat in the chair waiting for her arrival but the moment he heard the key in the lock he jumped to his feet and moved to the centre of the room. As the door opened he dropped to his knees, his legs spread, his hands palms up, and his gaze on the floor.

Joseph’s heart raced.

She was here! 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse walked into the room her gaze travelling over the dark wood, and masculine features of the room before coming to rest on the man kneeling in the centre of the room. She moved forward and stopped just shy of him. She noted that Shades and Micah moved to either side of the door, Pierre moved to stand behind Joseph and Rupert stood next to her. The silence in the room stretched until Her Majesty, Queen Clarisse Mignonette Gerard Renaldi asked, “Who is this man and what does he desire?”

His Majesty replied, “His name is José Joseph Alejandro Calvera Ramirez and he desires to be one who serves.”

“José Joseph Alejandro Calvera Ramirez, look at me,” Her Majesty commanded.

Joseph lifted his gaze from the floor to look at Her Majesty. Clarisse moved closer, she was now near enough to touch Joseph.

She trailed her hand across his shoulders. The feel of her hand on him caused Joseph to shiver. His erection grew and he could feel his shaft pulsating.

“If I grant you this desire will you serve me faithfully?” Clarisse asked as she trailed her fingers over his shoulders and neck. “Will you place my needs above your own? Serve only me until the end of your life?” she asked as she caressed his head.

Joseph leaned into her touch. The feel of her hands on him caused his blood to race. She moved to stand in front of him once again, her hand never leaving his body. His eyes widened and his breath hitched as she knelt down and whispered in his ear.

“Will you share my bed and my life, loving only me until the end of time? Will you kiss and caress me? Make love to me? Will you worship and adore me with every fibre of your being? Will you be mine and mine alone?”

Joseph swayed toward Her Majesty. Her words and her scent drove every thought out of his head. For him there was only her.

“Yes, I will,” he answered.

Clarisse gently caressed his cheek. His love radiated in his eyes and she gasped when she felt his lips kiss her hand.

Clarisse leant forward and placed a soft kiss on Joseph’s lips before standing.

“José Joseph Alejandro Calvera Ramirez, I accept your service as _regina patronus quod paramour_ to the Renaldi bloodline,” declared Clarisse. “Stand, my knight, and begin your service.”

 

 

 


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 28**

 

Joseph followed His Majesty into the suite. It had been a long day of meetings. Joseph couldn’t wait to sit down and relax in the quiet of the suite. The constant chatter from the various representatives had given him a low level headache. Joseph slipped off his jacket and laid it across one of the chairs. Clad in only his dress shirt with his shoulder holster prominent he looked the epitome of a bodyguard. 

His Majesty re-entered the sitting room sans jacket and tie carrying a bottle of pills. Shaking two out, he recapped them, and tossed the bottle to Joseph. Joseph caught them with ease, shaking two pills out before recapping them and placing them on the end table. 

Accepting a glass of water from His Majesty, Joseph swallowed the medication before sitting down. He leant his head against the back of the chair and sighed. 

“Peace and quiet at last,” Joseph said, his eyes closed in exhaustion. 

“Thank god,” Rupert said from his spot on the sofa. Joseph opened one eye and glanced over at his sovereign. His Majesty had his legs stretched out; one arm flung over his eyes and the other balanced the water glass on his chest. 

Neither man uttered a sound for some time, each relishing the quiet of the suite. The knocking on the suite door forced Joseph to stand. He walked to the door, peered out of the eyehole and opened the door, waving Anton and James inside. 

“Dinner, Sir,” Joseph announced as James set the table. 

“Set two places please,” Rupert instructed. 

James did as instructed, while Anton opened the wine, before pouring two glasses. After they were finished, both men waited to be dismissed. 

Rupert walked over to the table. “James, you and the boys are dismissed. Go get some sleep. Joe and I can clean up,” His Majesty ordered. Anton glanced briefly at Joe. At Joe’s nod Anton bowed and followed James out of the suite. 

Tonight was the first night since arriving in Brussels that His Majesty wasn’t attending some dinner or gathering. The past week had filled with meeting after meeting then diplomatic lunches and dinners. Joe had taken advantage of the lull in His Majesty’s schedule to order a quiet dinner in the suite. 

Both men spoke little as they enjoyed the meal prepared for them by the Staff at the Palace of Brussels. When finished, Joseph gathered everything and placed it on the cart before wheeling it out into the hall for Staff to collect. Securing the door to the suite he accepted the glass of cognac from His Majesty and sat down. 

Rupert took his place on the sofa once again. After a few minutes he reached for the phone on the end table, dialled and placed the call on speakerphone. The distinctive dialling tone was heard before the phone was answered. 

“Allô?” 

“Salut, Clarisse. Comment ça va?” asked Rupert. 

“Hola, mi riena. Cómo estás?” greeted Joseph. 

“Bien, et toi?” Clarisse answered. 

“Ca va bien…bien” the men answered. 

“It is good to hear your voice, my dear,” said Rupert. “How are things on the home front?” 

A deep sigh and some soft rustling were heard before Clarisse answered. 

“Parliament is being their normal irritating selves, especially Mabrey and Delacroix. They are determined to make the improvements for Ardua difficult. They even requested a delayed vote but thankfully Lord Palimore, along with a few others vetoed that request. The vote for the funding happens next Tuesday ,” she said. 

“Also, I had a rather productive meeting with the Italian representatives, their new representative Signor Constatine Notte is a lovely man. Very distinguished and extremely sweet. So unlike Signor Gravago, who from what I understand resigned rather abruptly. Something about his health,” Clarisse said, her tone mild. 

The look Rupert and Joseph shared spoke volumes, and both men prayed fervently that Clarisse hadn’t learned of their behaviour from that night months ago.

“Other than the normal daily reports, mails and documents nothing else of interest has been going on,” she added. “How are things in Brussels?” 

“Boring,” Joseph answered. 

“Tedious,” Rupert added. Both answers earned a laugh from Clarisse. 

“You are in one of the most beautiful cities in Europe and you are bored,” she said. 

“The city may be beautiful but the company is not,” said Rupert. 

“I try to dress to please him and he never appreciates it. I go out of my way to be charming and entertaining, but all I get are complaints of being bored,” Joseph quipped. 

He dodged the cushion thrown at him by Rupert and smiled at the laughter from Clarisse. “And now he is attempting to abuse me with throw pillows. Your Majesty,” 

Clarisse interrupted, “Clarisse.” 

Joseph corrected himself. “Clarisse, please allow me to come home, at least there I know I will be appreciated,” pleaded Joseph, laughing at the two finger salute Rupert gave him. 

“Clarisse, ignore any strangled noises you hear,” said Rupert. “It will only be me killing our Head of Security.” 

“Now boys, there will be no killing, maiming or violence done by or to either of you. I want you both hearty and hale when you arrive home,” she said. 

“Fine,” sighed Rupert. “You never let me have any fun,” he teased. 

“And for that I thank you profusely, Your Maj…” 

“Joseph,” Clarisse corrected. 

“Clarisse…sorry,” said Joseph. 

“That’s better. Now you both aren’t really bored, are you?” she asked. 

“Yes,” the men answered in unison. 

“Oh that’s too bad,” she said. The men heard more rustling in the background, the sound of what they were sure was water, an audible sigh and moan from Clarisse. 

Rupert was the first to speak. “Um..Clarisse…where are you?” 

“In the bath,” she answered. 

She smiled when she heard the soft… _’in the bath’_. Her smiled widened when she heard Joseph exclaim ‘cristo’ followed by Rupert’s ‘merde’. 

“Clarisse, do you want us to call you back after you…” Rupert began to ask only to be interrupted by Clarisse. 

“Don’t be silly Rupert. We can talk while I am in the bath. It is not as if you are both here with me..” She smiled when she heard their soft groans. “Besides, this is not the first time I have taken a bath while we have spoken,” she said. She fought the urge to giggle when she heard the twin groans and the soft ‘I didn’t need to know that’ she was sure came from Joseph. 

Deciding that a bit more teasing was in order she said, “I am going to put my phone on speaker, give me a moment.” 

She almost laughed when she heard Rupert say, “No, Clarisse that is not…” 

“There. Are you able to hear me?” 

“Yes,” the men answered. Clarisse smiled at the obvious discomfort that was evident in their voices. 

“Good now tell me about these boring meetings,” she said. She wasn’t surprised when both men jumped at the change of subject. Soon they were engrossed in regaling her with tales of the various representatives. She offered limited responses, she let the men think that she was simply listening to them as they spoke. 

Her soft “ _oh yes_ ” interrupted Joseph’s story of the Swedish Prime Minister’s bodyguard causing Joseph to stutter to a stop.

Joseph cleared his throat and began speaking again only to come to an abrupt stop at Clarisse’s “Oh…hmmm..” 

Both men leaned forward at the sound. Another moan, louder this time had their gazes shooting to each other. 

“What the hell is she doing?” Joseph whispered furiously to Rupert. The moans from Clarisse were affecting him and soon, how much they were affecting him would be readily apparent. 

“How the hell am I supposed to know,” Rupert whispered in answer. Rupert could feel his pants tightening. He glanced quickly at Joe, noting he was equally affected. Rupert swore silently. 

“She’s your wife,” Joseph whispered back. 

“But she’s your…,” Rupert answered just as quietly. At Joseph’s raised eyebrow he added, “soon to be lover.” 

Another deeper moan came across the telephone line and both men reached down to adjust their now unmistakable erections. Neither man made an attempt to interrupt. Instead, they both knelt on the floor next to the phone, Rupert on his side near the sofa and Joseph on his side near the chair. They leant closer to the phone, listening to the soft sighs, and moans that were emanating from the other end. 

At a particularly loud moan, followed by a distinct _‘_ oh yes’ both men squeezed their shafts in response. Soon the only sounds heard were the soft moans and sighs emanating from one end of the telephone line, and the answering grunts and deep moans from the other. 

The cry of _‘_ Rupert…Joseph _’_ from the Genovian side of the line triggered the twin groans of _‘_ Clarisse _’_ from the Belgium side. The harsh pants from the two men drowned out the softer “Good night” and soon a dial tone was all that was heard in the Palace of Brussels suite.

 

 


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 29**

 

Genovia One took off from the National Airport in Brussels after waiting for an hour due to inclement weather. 

“Finally,” muttered His Majesty once they were airborne. Removing his reading glasses Rupert closed the report he had been reading to pass the time, placed it back in his briefcase and motioned for Joseph to join him. He waited for Joe to sit down before he asked. “The Palace is aware of our delay, correct?” 

“Yes. I spoke with Shades. The limo is already awaiting our arrival and Her Majesty has been informed of our delay,” Joseph said. He then added, “Shades made a comment that I didn’t have a chance to question him about.” 

“What comment”? Rupert asked. 

“Something about Her Majesty having dinner plans.” 

“Dinner plans? What dinner plans?” 

“No idea,” said Joe. “As I said I didn’t have a chance to question Shades, the line went dead due to the weather before I could ask.” 

Both men retreated into silence. 

Their conversations with Clarisse after ‘ _that night’_ , as they referred to it, were filled with flirtatious comments and innuendos. Clarisse teased with practiced ease much to the pleasure of the two men. Unfortunately, while the calls were entertaining they were often too short. 

Entirely too short! 

They noticed whenever they called, regardless of the time, Clarisse was either dressing for another dinner with unknown dignitaries, or was so exhausted after returning from dinner, again with unknown dignitaries, that she ended the calls early. 

Just last night Rupert swore he had heard a male voice in the room with Clarisse, Joe had heard it also, and when questioned Clarisse said it was the television. She had taken the call in the family room rather than in their suite. Which was strange but not completely unusual. There were times she worked while speaking with them. 

When Joe asked about the accent, he was sure it had been Italian, Clarisse said it was a documentary featuring a number of Italian nationals. 

They accepted her explanation. 

They had no choice. 

But prior to her hanging up they had distinctly heard the voice again. The difference with the voice that time was that it had said, “Vieni con me, mia bella regina.” Both men were fluent in Italian and easily translated what had been said. Whomever had spoken had said ‘come with me, my beautiful queen _’_. Clarisse had answered “un attimo” then hung up the phone. 

Both men had gone completely still, each lost in his own thoughts. They hadn’t mentioned the incident but now on their way home Rupert broached the subject. 

“You said Shades mentioned Clarisse had dinner plans?” asked Rupert. 

“Yes,” answered Joe. 

“I wonder if her dinner plans are with her mysterious Italian companion we heard last night,” said Rupert. 

“Possibly,” answered Joe. 

“I don’t like this Joe,” said Rupert. 

“I’m not thrilled with it either,” said Joseph. “But there is nothing we can do until we get back to Genovia.” 

“I know,” said Rupert. “Dammed Italians,” cursed Rupert. 

Joe looked at His Majesty. “Rupert,” he said, “don’t worry. This is Clarisse we are talking about. It is highly unlikely she is contemplating having an affair.” 

At Rupert’s nod, Joe added, “Besides, she called this Notte fellow sweet and lovely. Hardly words to describe a lover.” 

Rupert snorted at this. “You’re right Joe. Notte is probably a seventy year old decrepit man with a lisp and bad eyesight.” 

Joe laughed. Joe hoped Notte was as Rupert described. Anything else was too disturbing to contemplate. Feeling a hand on his arm, Joe looked over at His Majesty. 

“Thanks Joe,” said Rupert, squeezing the other man’s arm then releasing it. 

“No problem,” replied Joe. 

The two men retreated into silence determined to put the thought of Notte out of their minds.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse laughed, her eyes crinkling in amusement as she listened to the story being told. 

“What could I do? There I lay, covered in wine, and fruit with a gecko balanced precariously on my nose and the daughter of our host laughing hysterically next to me,” Constantine recalled, smiling at Clarisse’s laughter. 

“What happened then?” asked Clarisse. 

“What could happen,” answered Constantine. “Elena and I were helped up. The gecko was retrieved and after a quick change of clothes for both of us, the dinner went on as planned. Of course, the next morning before I entered the hall I checked to make sure there was no wildlife, tamed or not present. I later discovered that Elena pronounced me ideal which helped with our trade negotiations.“ 

“Oh Constantine, you are ideal,” said Clarisse, laughing. 

“And you, Your Majesty, are quite lovely,” responded Constantine. “Have I told you how bella you look this evening?” he said, gazing at her over the rim of his wineglass. 

“Thank you,” said Clarisse, blushing at the obvious admiration in Constantine’s eyes. “I shall let my designer know that you approve of his creation.” 

“It is not the creation. Sei più bella di un angelo,” Constantine replied, the husky quality of his voice not lost on Clarisse. 

Clarisse blushed. She took a sip of her wine to calm her racing heart. 

She had told Rupert about Constantine. She had referred to him as a lovely man, sweet and distinguished. But, what she hadn’t mentioned to Rupert or Joseph was his physical appearance or how attracted she was to him. She was honest enough to admit to herself if she had ever entertained the idea of having a lover before Joseph’s service, Constantine would have fit the role perfectly. 

He was tall, almost as tall as Rupert. He had short, dark blonde hair and beautiful green eyes. He was a bit broader in the chest than her two men and his physique was almost as fit as Joseph’s and Rupert’s. His self-confidence was apparent and he moved as gracefully as a dancer- something that reminded her of Joseph. 

She wondered how well he danced? 

When he had asked her to join him for dinner this evening she had at first hesitated. Both her husband, and her knight were returning home this evening. She had almost refused, but a sense of mischief had seized her, and she had accepted his invitation. Knowing how it would look to the press if she enjoyed an intimate dinner with a man other than Rupert, she had insisted the dinner be at the Palace. 

Constantine had readily agreed. 

The menu was left in the capable hands of the Palace kitchen, and the intimate dinner was set in the Green Salon. With only Miguel, the footman to serve, and Shades on guard outside the salon, Clarisse enjoyed her dinner and banter with Constantine. But now she wondered if she perhaps she should end the evening. 

The temptation she had been fighting was back full force. Clarisse wondered if she wanted to fight or simply give in to it. Seeing how Constantine looked at her and the husky quality of his voice Clarisse made her decision. 

Opening her mouth to end the evening she was forestalled by Constantine. “Balliamo? Dance with me, Your Majesty,” he asked holding out his hand. The music that had been playing in the background was now easily heard.   

Clarisse knew she should refuse, but she didn’t. Some sense convinced her that dancing with Constantine would be an experience she would never forget. She placed her hand in his, and allowed him to pull her into his arms. 

They danced slowly. Clarisse relaxed letting the music envelop her. They danced for some time, moving easily from one song to another. As another song began Clarisse glanced up and her breath caught at the desire she saw in Constantine’s eyes. 

“Posso baciarti?" he asked softly. “Per favore.” 

“Constantine…I…” began Clarisse. She wanted to say no, but there was part of her that wondered how it would feel to kiss him. 

Clarisse was tempted, so very tempted. 

Before she could refuse his request Constantine lowered his head, gently covered her lips with his, and kissed her. Clarisse froze for a brief moment, but soon the soft sensation of Constantine’s lips moving over hers coaxed a response from her and she began to kiss him back. 

How long they kissed Clarisse had no idea, but when they finally broke apart they were both breathing heavily. The desire Clarisse had seen in Constantine’s eyes before was now greater. Her gaze dropped from his face to his body, and she couldn’t quell the rush of feminine power as she saw the physical evidence of his desire. 

Constantine stepped back. He needed to put distance between himself and this beautiful woman. She was far too tempting and his control around her seemed to be tenuous at best. What possessed him to ask to kiss her, then to do so he didn’t know? 

No! That was not true. 

He knew exactly why he asked, had wanted to kiss her. She was bellissima. But it was more than her beauty that attracted him. She was intelligent, easy to speak with, and intrigante. She was the perfect woman and he was enamoured of her. 

But, she was also married and Queen. 

This meant that any attachment, any relazione amorosa was strictly forbidden. He acknowledged this but part of him wanted, no needed to experience her kiss and her taste. Now that he had he found himself even more conflicted. His codice d'onore refused to allow him seduce another man’s wife. But for her he was tempted to toss aside his personal code of conduct. 

Looking into her eyes he saw her own struggle and pulled her back into his arms. 

“Please forgive me, Your Majesty…Clarisse,” Constantine said. 

“Forgive you for kissing me?” Clarisse asked, her tone conveying her hurt and the coldness that seemed to surround her at his apology. 

Was she simply a prize for him? _‘Clarisse, you idiot. He only kissed you because you are Queen,’_ she thought, her expression betraying her thoughts. 

“No, never for kissing you, mi bella regina. For that I would never ask forgiveness,” Constantine said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I ask forgiveness for taking advantage of the situation.” He smiled at her bemused expression. 

“But..” Clarisse began. 

Constantine placed a finger on Clarisse’s lips to silence her. “I ask that you forgive me. I took advantage and for that I am sorry,” he said, kissing her lips lightly. 

When he ended the soft kiss Clarisse looked at him, a teasing smile on her face and asked, “Should I forgive you for that kiss.” 

“No, not for that one,” said Constantine huskily. “But this one I will definitely have to ask forgiveness for,” he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing her eagerly. Clarisse kissed him back then gently broke the kiss, moving out of Constantine’s arms. 

Constantine watched Clarisse hungrily as she moved back to the table and sat down. He fought the urge to walk over, pull her into his arms and seduce her. ‘ _Dio mio_! She is tempting,” he thought. 

Deciding it was safer to keep as much distance between them as possible- his control was no longer tenuous, it was now shot to hell- he moved to stand near the fireplace. 

Turning around, he looked at Clarisse and said, “If you weren’t married to the man you are or had the Head of Security you do I would say to hell with my honour and the consequences and make love with you.” 

Clarisse was stunned by Constantine’s admission. She floundered for something to say but could only ask, “Why Rupert and Joseph?” 

Constantine laughed, the sound harsh. “Because, mi bella regin _a_ your husband and your Head of Security are not known for their forgiving natures when it comes to you. My predecessor Signor Gravago learned intimately how unforgiving His Majesty and Joseph Ramirez are.” 

“I don’t understand. What does Signor Gravago have to do with any of this?” 

“His Majesty and Joseph forced Gravago’s resignation. After his resignation, Gravago was…how shall I put this…no longer of value to his associates in the _Camorra_ , so they had him eliminated.” 

Clarisse stared at Constantine in shock before speaking. 

“Constantine, please come and sit. I think you and I have some things to discuss,” she said, pouring more wine. 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Joseph followed His Majesty into the Palace. Both men greeted Carlos before asking where Her Majesty was. 

“She and her guest are in the Green Salon,” Carlos answered. 

“Guest?” both men asked. 

“Yes sirs. Shades is providing security,” Carlos added. 

“Inside the room?” Joseph asked. 

“No sir, outside,” said Carlos. “Her Majesty ordered him to remain outside. Miguel served, sir but was dismissed after he finished serving the meal.” Seeing the look coming over his boss’s face Carlos quickly added. “Her Majesty ordered him to leave. Shades checked in twenty minutes ago with nothing to report.” 

Joseph didn’t bother to answer, he and His Majesty simply turned down the corridor, heading to the Green Salon. Carlos keyed his radio and warned Shades the boss and Eagle were headed his way. 

“Outside?” growled Rupert. 

“Outside,” Joseph responded, his tone mimicking His Majesty’s. 

Shades heard the two men coming. One look at their faces had him opening the door and stepping aside, before pulling it closed. He took a deep breath, keyed his radio and said, “Eagle and Boss are inside.” 

After receiving an affirmative from the Hub, Shades took his place once again. He had a feeling the night was going to get interesting real soon, real fast.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 30**

 

“Rupert,” Clarisse greeted. She walked to him and took his hands in hers. She allowed none of her irritation to show as she greeted her husband and King. Kissing Rupert’s cheek she didn’t resist when he drew her into his arms and kissed her gently but passionately. 

‘ _Emphasizing your claim, are you my husband?’_ thought Clarisse as she kissed him back. _‘You should be careful, such tactics are known to backfire, my love.’_

Rupert ended their kiss, and released Clarisse. “I missed you, my dear,” he said. 

“I missed you too,” answered Clarisse, before moving out of Rupert’s arms. She moved toward Joseph, who was standing to the left and behind Rupert. She stopped in front of him, reached up and cupped his cheek. “And I missed you, dear Joseph,” she said. 

Joseph bowed his head and said, “As I did you, Your Majesty.” Clarisse stroke his cheek once, and lowered her hand. 

Joseph grasped her hand in his as she lowered it and placed a soft kiss to the back of it. Clarisse smiled softly in response. 

“Oh, where are my manners?” said Clarisse, moving back to the third man in the room. Slipping her arm into his Clarisse said, “Rupert, Joseph allow me to introduce _Signor_ Constantine Notte, a member of the Ministero per il Commercio con l'Estero.” 

“Constantine, this is my husband His Majesty, King Rupert Renaldi, and our Head of Security Joseph Ramirez. Gentlemen, Signor Constantine Notte.” 

“Your Majesty,” bowed Constantine. 

“Signor Notte,” answered His Majesty. Rupert extended his hand, surprised at the strong grip of Signor Notte. _‘Hmm…’_ thought Rupert. 

“Senor Ramirez,” said Constantine, offering his hand to Joseph. Joseph accepted Constantine’s hand and replied, “Joseph, please.” 

“Joseph,” said Constantine. “It is a pleasure to meet you both. Clari…Her Majesty has spoken of you often.” 

Rupert and Joseph both stiffened slightly at the almost use of Clarisse’s given name. 

Clarisse stood to the side as the men exchanged greetings. She noted the assessing manner in which both her men greeted Constantine. And their reaction to his almost use of her first name. Before Rupert could take control of the conversation or dismiss Constantine for the evening Clarisse sat down on one of the sofas. 

“Darling, come sit,” she said to Rupert. 

Rather than arguing Rupert sat down next to her and indicated his wish for Joseph and Constantine to sit. 

“How was your flight?” asked Clarisse. 

“The flight was fine, the takeoff...interminable,” answered Rupert. 

“Ahh, yes. I was informed of your delay,” said Clarisse. “I had hoped you would have been able to join Constantine and I for dinner.” 

“I am sure I missed a sumptuous meal and delightful company, my dear,” said Rupert, his gaze flicking over the intimate dinner setting. 

“Yes, darling you did,” said Clarisse. “Constantine is a wonderful dinner companion and an interesting conversationalist,” she added, smiling at the other man. 

Constantine inclined his head in thanks. 

“He filled me in on all the latest gossip,” said Clarisse. Rupert eyed his wife warily. Clarisse was never one for gossip. In fact, she hated to gossip. She preferred truth to half-truths, speculations and outright lies. 

Clarisse gave Rupert no time to speak, instead she continued on blithely. “He related a fascinating piece of information to me about one of the former Italian representatives. You remember Signor Gravago, do you not darling?” asked Clarisse. “It seems he was forced to resign and his resignation was not looked on kindly by his associates.” 

Rupert’s expression gave nothing away to the casual observer, but Clarisse saw the slight tightening around Rupert’s eyes. She watched as Joseph’s expression slipped into a blank mask. _‘Yes, both men have much to explain,’_ Clarisse thought. 

“My dear, perhaps we can continue this conversation later,” said Rupert, covering his mouth in a faux yawn. “We’ve had a long flight…” 

“Oh no, darling,” interrupted Clarisse, “I think it would be best if we _tackled_ this subject tonight while it is still fresh, don’t you?” 

“You are not going to let this go, are you?” asked Rupert. 

Clarisse simply raised her eyebrow in response. 

“Fine, ma chère. But perhaps we could continue this discussion in private?” Rupert said, looking at Constantine. 

“Of course.” Clarisse stood, the men following her lead. Clarisse took Constantine’s arm and the two walked out of the salon. Rupert and Joseph waited then followed. 

“Your husband and Head of Security are following, mi bella regina, “ Constantine whispered, his head tilted toward Clarisse’s. 

“I know,” she replied. 

When they arrived at the entrance to the palace Constantine looked at the beautiful woman on his arm and said, “Grazie, mi bella regina.” 

“For?” 

“For being you. For offering me a taste of heaven. Per tutto _,”_ he said. “If you ever have need of me, no matter what the reason, I am yours.” 

“I would like to kiss you again, mi bella regina but considering the glares your husband and Head of Security are giving me it might be in my best interests not to tempt fate,” he added. 

Moving closer to Clarisse he said in a softer tone, “Don’t be too harsh with them for their actions concerning Gravago. I would have done the same.” 

“I shan’t,” smiled Clarisse. She had already decided on how she would deal with her men and their actions. 

Constantine bowed his head in response. “Now mi bella regina, I think it is time for me to depart, otherwise, your husband and your Head of Security are going to start to plot my demise _,_ ” he teased. 

Taking her hand in his he said, “Remember, if you need me, I am yours. Arrivederci, cara mia _,”_ before placing a soft kiss to her hand. 

_“_ Arrivederci, Constantine,” replied Clarisse.

  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Rupert followed Clarisse as she walked to their apartment. Joseph followed both. After Their Majesties entered their apartment he dismissed the guards at the door, telling them to return at four a.m. Any questions the guards may have had were quickly stifled by the look that their boss gave them. Two ‘ _yes sirs_ ’ were the only response they gave before they moved down the corridor.  

Joseph closed the door and secured it. He accepted the glass of whiskey Rupert handed him and swallowed it in one gulp. Rupert had already emptied his glass, he refilled both before setting the decanter back down. 

Neither man said a word as they waited for their queen to re-enter the sitting room. When she re-entered she had changed out of the dark teal cocktail dress into a deep red negligee and wrapper. She walked up to the two men, took the whiskey glass out of Rupert’s hand, swallowed what was left in the glass and set it down on the table. She walked over to the loveseat, sat down, her posture straight, one leg tucked behind the other; a picture of complete calm and asked, “Was it really necessary to threaten Signor Gravago?” 

“What did that dammed Italian tell you?” growled Rupert. “I knew I should have banned them from the Palace. _Bâtards!_ ” 

Clarisse didn’t respond to Rupert’s irritation. “I know you and Joseph met with Emesto Solero and Signor Gravago at the Swiss ball and …words were exchanged between you and Signor Gravago. What I want to know was it really necessary to threaten the man with a gun? Or tell him to hide Joseph?” 

“Yes,” Rupert and Joseph answered in unison. 

“Why?” asked Clarisse. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing your actions, when they are discovered, because we all know the press will eventually discover them, especially that bitch Elsie Penworthy and her dammed morning show, will be for me?” 

“What?” both men asked, clearly confused. 

Clarisse looked at both men. They really had no clue. “The press will have a field day when they discover the King, my husband and the Head of Security for the Royal Family acted like to common goons,” both men flinched at that word. “Yes, goons…when dealing with what will be termed _‘_ an admirer _’_ of Her Majesty.” 

“Gravago was no ‘admirer _’_ ,” snarled Rupert. 

“He was a threat to your safety,” scowled Joseph. 

“Regardless of what he was, the press will look on this as just another in a long line of incidents of a jealous King and an over-zealous Head of Security,” said Clarisse. 

“Who cares what the press thinks,” Rupert said. 

“Exactly,” Joseph agree.

 “Gravago wasn’t some innocent admirer,” spat Rupert. “He bedded the wives and daughters of half of Europe’s ambassadors then bragged about it. He had his sights set on bedding you and was under the impression I would allow it. He was a fool and a bastard.” 

“And you thought I didn’t know this?” Clarisse asked, her temper rising. “I knew exactly who and what Signor Gravago was. I was well aware of his reputation and his predilections. I made every effort to assure I was never alone with him or indicate, in any manner, his advances were welcome. I did all this without once resorting to ‘caveman tactics’ that the two of you…”

Rupert’s temper got the better of him and he pulled Clarisse up and into his arms, his grip on her arms punishing. “Dammit woman, Gravago was scum and…” Rupert growled. 

“Release her,” Joseph said quietly. 

Rupert’s gaze shot to Joseph’s. What he saw there made him release Clarisse. 

“Je suis dèsolée, ma chère,” he said to Clarisse. “Lo siento Joseph,” he said. 

Clarisse caressed Rupert’s cheek in acceptance. “Je te pardonne, mon chéri.” 

“Merci,” replied Rupert, placing a soft kiss on Clarisse’s cheek. He then looked at Joseph and asked, “Et toi, Joseph?” 

“Sí, yo te perdono,” replied Joseph. 

“Gracias. mi amigo.” 

Clarisse remained standing between the two men. She could feel the undercurrent of tension between the two of them still. She needed to diffuse the tension. Turning to Rupert she kissed him on the lips softly. 

“Thank you,” she said, before turning to Joseph and repeating the kiss and the thank you. 

“I am still not happy with how you dealt with Gravago or the result of your actions but I do understand why you did what you did,” said Clarisse, smiling at the men’s expressions. 

“Were those kisses not enough?” she asked. 

Before either man could form a reply she moved to Rupert, placed her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers. She kissed him softly, her lips gently caressing his as her tongue traced the contours. She increased the pressure slowly, teasing his mouth with the tip of her tongue until she felt his mouth open under hers. Her tongue slipped into his mouth to tangle with his, enjoying the taste of the whiskey and his unique flavour. When Clarisse felt Rupert’s hands begin to caress her back through her wrapper she ended the kiss tenderly and moved out of his arms. 

Clarisse turned to Joseph. The kisses they had shared up to this point were friendly, even chaste, but with this one kiss all that would change. Clarisse could feel the nervous tension coupled with excitement inside herself. This moment would change their relationship forever. She moved closer to Joseph and slid her hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders. Joseph made no move to embrace her. Instead, he simply watched and waited. 

Clarisse moistened her lips, leant forward and her breath ghosted over Joseph’s lips as her eyes maintained contact with his. She watched his blues eyes darken as the pupils obscured their colour, the desire he felt for her more than evident. Her lips touched his gently, learning their texture, the feel of his goatee tickling her lips as her tongue flicked out to trace their contour. Clarisse increased the pressure to his mouth slowly, relishing in the subtle changes that marked their first real kiss. She flicked at his lips signalling her desire for him to open his mouth. Once she felt his lips open her tongue slipped into his mouth to taste him. 

Clarisse couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her at her first taste of Joseph. She could taste the whiskey he had drunk, the remains of a peppermint, something she knew he often enjoyed and something that was simply Joseph. She deepened the kiss, her tongue chasing his as she revelled in his taste. She felt his arms pull her close until her breasts were pressed tightly to his chest. She felt his hands move slowly over her body; one moved to cradle the back of her head and the other settled on her hip to caress it softly.

Clarisse ended the kiss just as tenderly as she had begun it. She stepped out of Joseph’s arms and looked at him. 

“You are dangerous, Señor Ramirez,” Clarisse teased. She knew her face was flushed and the desire she felt for Joseph was apparent in her eyes. 

“Not as dangerous as you are, Madame Renaldi,” Joseph teased back, making no attempt to hide his arousal, undeniable proof of how her kiss affected him. 

Clarisse turned to look at Rupert, “Did you hear that Monsieur Renaldi? I am dangerous.” 

“I have to agree with Señor Ramirez, Madame. You are dangerous,” Rupert said moving to stand behind Clarisse. He reached around and untied the bow that secured her wrapper and pulled it off to reveal the negligee underneath. He placed kisses to the soft skin of her shoulders and neck as he said, “Very, very dangerous. And extremely desirable. Wouldn’t you say so, Señor Ramirez?” 

“Desirable, enticing,” said Joseph, moving to stand in front of Clarisse. She was now sandwiched between both he and Rupert. “Sexy…alluring,” he added as he traced the décolleté of her negligee before bending to kiss her collarbone and the skin below it. 

Clarisse couldn’t breathe or think; all she could do was feel. Feel the warmth of Rupert behind her and Joseph in front of her. Feel the soft, familiar sensations from Rupert as he kissed and nibbled on her neck and shoulders. Feel the unfamiliar sensations from Joseph, his goatee tickling, as he kissed, and traced the skin of her chest and collarbones with his tongue and lips. Her knees weakened as the two men kissed and caressed her, never venturing below the décolleté of her nightgown. 

Clarisse moaned low in her throat, her head thrown back. The sensations the men were evoking were driving her to the brink. Her breasts were heavy and her nipples were inflamed to almost the point of pain. Every time she moved they rubbed against the silk of her negligee sending tiny sparks of desire to her womb. Her sex was wet, and throbbing. Her thighs sticky with her arousal. Her body was overloaded with sensations. 

A sharp nip to the side of her neck had her crying out, her orgasm overwhelming her in its intensity. She felt her legs give out and the last thought she had before blackness engulfed her was _‘Oh god, she would never be able to survive them making love to her!’_

 

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 31**

 

Joseph walked out of the bathroom, clad in his boxers, a towel draped across his shoulders. 

“Lord, that felt good,” he whispered as he tossed the towel into the hamper, and walked toward the bed. He slipped into the bed, and turned onto his side to gaze at the woman sleeping in the centre of the bed. 

“Tan hermosa,” he whispered his finger tracing a soft caress up her arm. 

“Beautiful and ours,” a second voice whispered. 

Joseph looked over at his King as he lay on the other side of their Queen. 

Both men gazed lovingly at the woman that lay between them. The comfortable silence stretched between the two men eventually broken by Rupert. 

“I’ve been thinking. I’ve come to the conclusion that we can’t do this,” said Rupert. 

Joseph stiffened. “I see,” he said. 

At Joseph’s tone of voice Rupert quickly responded. “No, not this,” he said softly, waving a hand to include all of them. “There is no doubt that I want you to fulfil your vow of _quod paramour_. I mean we can’t make love to Clarisse, the two of us, together, here at the Palace. There are too many eyes and ears; too great a chance of being discovered. We need somewhere more private,” whispered Rupert. 

Rupert reached over Clarisse to grasp Joseph’s hand. “Never doubt my intent or trust in you, my friend,” he said, squeezing Joseph’s hand before releasing it. “We just need to find someplace other than here,” he said once more. 

“How private?” whispered Joseph. “Are we talking no guards or staff? Or just the bare minimum? If we are talking bare minimum, the Summer House or the Beach House comes to mind. If we are talking no one but we three, the Lodge would be ideal,” suggested Joseph. “But from a security standpoint I would prefer we at least take a foursome with us.”

“It could work,” yawned Rupert, warming to the idea of the Lodge. “But let’s talk about it in detail the morning. I’m exhausted and I know you are too. Set the alarms and let’s get some sleep, ” he said, pulling the covers up. 

“Hmm...,” said Joseph, fixing the covers over him. He snuggled down into the bed and closed his eyes. 

Soon, the only sound in the room was the relaxed breathing from the three people in the bed. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The first thing Clarisse felt was warmth. She was cocooned in warmth. The second thing she realized was that she was in bed. Her hand reached out to the left, and felt the familiar body on that side. _‘Rupert_ ,’ she thought. 

She repeated the actions to her right, surprised when she felt another’s arm. ‘ _Who?’,_ she thought then opened her eyes just able to make out the person lying on her right. _‘Joseph_.’ 

_‘I’m sleeping between them,’_ she realized calmly. ‘ _I should be more disturbed about this,_ ’ she thought, but found she couldn’t summon the appropriate awkwardness that should accompany finding herself in bed with two men. 

Consigning any self-analysis to a time when she was fully awake, Clarisse crawled out of the bed. A quick trip to the bathroom for obvious reasons; she removed her makeup while there, and ran a brush through her hair before she crawled back into bed. 

She squirmed to get comfortable. 

A strong arm pulled her back against a warm chest and a gruff _“_ Sleep” ghosted over her as she sighed softly and surrendered to sleep. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

A buzzing noise pulled Joseph out of the depths of sleep. He reached behind him and fumbled about until his fingers settled on his watch. He grabbed the vibrating buzzing instrument, and shut the alarm off by habit before he snuggled back down into bed. 

He was warm. 

Nice and warm. 

And comfortable. 

Warm and comfortable. He didn’t want to get out of bed. 

Buzzing was heard again and Joseph reached behind him again to switch off his alarm when he realized that the buzzing was not coming from behind him but rather in front of him. 

“Rupert… alarm,” a sleep-filled voice mumbled from somewhere under the covers. Joseph looked down to see a blonde head peeking out from under the pile of blankets. A soft body scooted closer to him. Joseph felt the bed move again. He looked over to see an arm reach out from under the blankets, turn off the alarm, and return to under the covers. 

“Do we have to get up?,” a deep voice rumbled from under the covers. 

Joseph answered, “Unfortunately, yes.” 

“Too early…nice and warm,” Joseph heard from near his chest. The voice was piqued and Joseph couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping. 

“Someone is not a morning person?” teased Joseph. Another chuckle was heard, this time from the other side. 

“I am a morning person…just not at…” Clarisse peered over Rupert from the blankets to look at the clock. “4:15? Why are we getting up at four bloody fifteen in the morning!” 

“We are not getting up. I am getting up,” said Joseph. “The guards returned at four. As I relieved them when we arrived last night, I need to brief them this morning. And make it look as if I spent the night on guard duty rather than…” Joseph trailed off, not sure how to finish his sentence. 

“Rather than in bed with the King and Queen doing heaven knows what,” finished Clarisse, smiling at Joseph. 

“Although the heaven knows what does have a certain appeal,” said Rupert, as he reached to switch on the bedside lamp. “And exactly what is heaven knows what? And does it mean if we do whatever it is are we simply following heaven’s rule?” he asked. 

“No philosophical discussions before daybreak,” said Clarisse, stretching then laying on her back between the two men. 

Clarisse expected a response from Rupert and was surprised when she received none. She looked first at Rupert then at Joseph. 

“Hermosa…jolie,” the two whispered as they stared at the woman between them. She blushed at their words and the looks on their faces. 

She didn’t understand how they could consider her beautiful. Her hair was tousled, she had no make-up on, and she had just woken. 

No, there was no way she was beautiful, and was about to say so when Joseph leant forward, and placed a soft kiss to her lips. It ended as quickly as it had begun, and she had no time to ask about it before he kissed her again. This time he lingered, his lips moving softly over hers, as he drew her lower lip into his mouth to nibble on before slipping into her mouth to gentle tangle with her tongue. Clarisse sighed into the kiss and reached up to pull Joseph closer only to have him break the kiss and stare down at her. 

“Te quiero,” Joseph whispered. 

Clarisse could feel the tears well and spill from her eyes at Joseph’s soft declaration. 

“I’m sorry. Por favor, no llores,” he said as he wiped the tears from her eyes. 

“I’m not crying because of…” began Clarisse. 

“She is crying because she is a woman and probably happy,” interrupted Rupert.

“Oh you,” Clarisse said laughing as she smacked Rupert across the chest. He caught her hand and kissed it, laughing all the while. 

Clarisse turned back to Joseph. “He is right. I am crying because I am happy.” Clarisse cupped Joseph’s cheek tenderly. “I cannot give you the words back yet, but I do,” she said as she kissed him tenderly. 

“Then I will wait patiently for the day when you can say the words. Just knowing is enough for now,” said Joseph, the love he felt for her shining in his eyes. 

Rupert watched the two of them, content. The buzzing of the alarm disturbed the quiet scene, and he reached over to shut it off completely. 

“Time to get up,” he said, pushing off the covers and sitting up. He stretched then stood, not in the least surprised to see Clarisse gather the covers and pull them back over her. 

“I’m not getting up,” she announced. “At least not for another,” she glanced quickly at the clock, “two hours.” 

“Your Maj…Rupert,” Joseph corrected himself, “there is no need for you to get up now. I am simply going to brief the guards, go to my suite, change clothes then head to the Hub.” 

Rupert looked at Joseph as he walked toward the bathroom. “And I am simply going to get dressed, follow you to your suite then to the Hub so we can finish our discussion from last night before my official day begins,” said Rupert as he reappeared from the bathroom then disappeared into the dressing room. 

When he re-entered he was dressed in a pair of causal houndstooth trousers, a t-shirt and a jumper. Joseph had put on the clothes he had been wearing the night before. Rupert walked over to the bed and sat down. He pulled Clarisse into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. Ending the kiss, he smiled at her flushed tousled look. Placing one last kiss to her temple he tucked the covers around her before turning to Joseph. 

“Shall we?” he said as he switched off the bedside lamp. 

“Joseph?” Clarisse’s soft voice said from the bed. “Don’t I get a kiss good bye?” she asked. 

Joseph looked at Rupert. He hadn’t thought about kissing Clarisse good bye. At Rupert’s look Joseph walked over to the bed, kneeled on the edge, bent forward, and kissed Clarisse softly then straightened. 

“Is that all I get?” she teased. 

At her teasing Joseph pulled her up, and into his arms kissing her as thoroughly as His Majesty had. Ending the kiss, he smiled at her look of satisfaction before coaxing her back under the covers, and tucking them around her. He placed a soft kiss to her hair and said, “Dulces sueños.” 

“Oh, they will be.” 

Both men laughed at her response, leaving the bedroom. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

If Hans and Kenneth thought it strange that His Majesty was up, and following their boss they didn’t comment on it. It wasn’t their place to speculate as to what went on inside the Royal Apartments. They knew the maids and footmen tended to discuss everything that went on inside, outside, and around the Palace, and they often tried to pry information out of Security. There was the rare occurrence when one of the guards would talk about what they had seen or heard, but those times were few and far between. Especially considering how the Boss reacted to his ‘kids _’_ gossiping. The Boss knew they gossiped among themselves, what he did not tolerate was gossiping with other members of the Royal Household. 

If any of the team wanted to pull lake, meadow or portrait hall duty all they had to do was be caught gossiping about anything they had seen or heard with any member of Housekeeping or Home Office. And if the Boss caught them doing it again, well most of them didn’t want to even contemplate what would happen then. The Boss had a wicked temper, he was Latino after all, and no one wanted to be on the receiving end of his temper. The last time they had seen him ‘lose it _’_ he had left them shaken, and praying they never screwed up again. So Hans and Kenneth didn’t comment as they watched His Majesty and the Boss walk down the corridor. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Joseph opened the door to his suite and stepped aside to allow His Majesty to enter first. Once inside he closed the door, removed his weapon and holster, and walked into his bedroom to change. 

Rupert wandered around the sitting room looking at everything. 

He hadn’t been in Joseph’s suite in years. He was surprised at how comfortable it felt, and how well it reflected his personality. From the art, to the books, to the pictures everything said Joseph Ramirez. Rupert noted the guitar tucked next to the chair and the music spread out on the ottoman. He picked up one of the sheets of music, and began humming the tune as he waited for Joseph.

Rupert played piano and guitar. Unlike his wife, he did not sing, not that he couldn’t, just that he played music better than he sang. He continued to hum the tune as he walked around the sitting room. He turned the sheet over to continue only to discover it was unfinished. 

“Joe?” Rupert called from the sitting room. 

“Yes?” answered Joseph as he walked back into the sitting room dressed in his customary black. He picked up his holster, putting it back on, and sliding his weapon in place. 

“What is the name of this song?’ he asked, holding up the sheet music. 

Joseph took the sheet from His Majesty, he could feel his face becoming red. “It is nothing,” Joe said placing the sheet back down on the ottoman. 

“It is not nothing,” said Rupert. “It’s beautiful. Now what is it called?” 

“La Reina de la noche. Queen of the Night,” he answered. 

“Who is the composer?” asked Rupert. 

“I am,” Joseph admitted. 

“You wrote that?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why is it unfinished?” asked Rupert. “It’s beautiful. It reminds me of... you wrote it for Clarisse, didn’t you?” 

“Yes,” Joseph answered. 

Rupert looked at the other man and said, “You need to finish it.” 

At Joseph’s look of disbelief Rupert continued. “No. You really need to finish it. It would make a perfect Christmas gift for her. She would love it.” 

Joseph shook his head. 

“No, trust me. She would love it. When I was humming it, it reminded me of Clarisse. Beautiful, elegant, sensual, erotic. Trust me, my friend, she would, without a doubt, love it!” Rupert added laughing, “Don’t make me command you to finish it.” 

Joseph put his hands up in mock surrender and said, “Fine. I promise I will finish it by Christmas.” At Rupert’s nod Joseph said, “Now shall we head to the Hub.” 

Rupert walked to the door, held it open and with a flourish said, “After you, Sir.” 

“Thank you,” replied Joseph in a fair impersonation of Lord Palimore. 

Rupert laughed, followed Joseph out the door, waited for him to secure his suite and the two men walked down the corridor to the Hub.   

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Their arrival at the Hub caused a bit of a commotion, but if anyone thought it odd that His Majesty was in the Hub no one said a word. They greeted both men, handed Joseph the logs and reports from last night and waited for the rest of the teams to arrive. Those already present listened as His Majesty and Joseph bantered back and forth. His Majesty poured himself a cup of coffee from the coffee pot, and before anyone could warn him he took a sip of the liquid. 

“Mère de Dieu! What is this?” said His Majesty as he spat the coffee back into the cup. 

“It is supposed to be coffee,” answered Joseph. 

“The only way that resembles coffee is if the drinker has few taste buds and wants to rid himself of those remaining. Merde! I haven’t tasted anything that foul since we were stationed together in Ankara,” said His Majesty. “Please tell me you don’t actually drink that stuff.” 

“No, I tend ask who made the pot before I pour a cup,” said Joseph. 

“Conrad made the coffee,” volunteered Andre, one of the younger guards. 

“That explains it,” said Joseph. He looked up from the log he was reading and said, “Conrad is ex-Navy. US Navy. He makes coffee that can strip the paint off a bulkhead.” 

“He must be related to Yves, as they seem to share the same taste in coffee,” replied Rupert as he picked up the pot, and dumped it out. 

“Where do you keep your coffee supplies?” asked Rupert. 

“Under the counter,” replied Joseph. 

“Your Majesty, I’ll make coffee,” volunteered Andre. 

Rupert looked at the young guard. “No need,” he said as he placed a filter in the basket, measured the beans out, ground them and placed them in the basket. He filled the reservoir and switched on the pot. “Give it ten minutes, and we will have drinkable coffee.” 

Rupert sat down and waited for the coffee to finish brewing. As Joseph walked around the Hub reading the reports Rupert grabbed a log book sitting on the desk, and began leafing through it. 

His laughter was soon heard as he read some of the entries. Joseph turned to look at His Majesty, and smiled when he realized what log book he was reading. He looked at the guards in the security hub as they watched their King. Many of them were newer recruits just finishing up their probationary term before being offered a contract. Most hadn’t had any interaction with either of the Royal Couple, and were still in awe of Their Majesties. 

“Viscount 'maybe I won’t whine today _’_ Mabrey, Joseph?” asked Rupert. 

Joseph shrugged, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. 

“Who coined the nickname?” asked Rupert. 

“Shades,” replied Joe. “It was after a particularly difficult day,” he added. 

“He is a peer of the realm Joseph,” said Rupert. 

“He is,” agreed Joseph. “But, you have to admit, the name fits,” he added. 

Rupert smiled. “That it does. I’m going to have to tell Clarisse about this one,” he said. “Remind me to congratulate Shades on his choice of monikers for our Viscount,” laughed His Majesty as he went back to reading the log. 

Minutes passed as the day shift began to drift in to relieve the night shift. All were shocked to see His Majesty sitting in one of the chairs, drinking coffee, and laughing as he read. They were even more surprised when His Majesty held up a cup to Joe, the boss nodded, and His Majesty fixed him a cup of coffee. 

“Thank you,” said Joseph. 

“ _I_ l n'y a pas de quoi,” Rupert responded. 

Rupert fixed another pot of coffee, and sat down again. 

After everyone arrived, Joseph began the daily meeting. Rupert listened as Joseph went over the day to day security operations, and assigned specific teams to specific areas. Finally questions were answered, and the meeting dismissed.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“If we took a foursome with us wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of going there for privacy,” asked Rupert. 

“No, not at all. The Lodge offers a completely secure building with limited access. This would mean the patrols would be outside and we would only need to interact with the kids in the event of an emergency. Otherwise, we would never see them. The cameras are only on the outside perimeter, and in the entranceway, so there would be no chance of being seen. And the alarm system is designed to prevent unauthorized access. The kids would simply be there to monitor the system, and not us,” explained Joseph. 

Rupert sat back. Joseph waited for His Majesty to make a decision. The Lodge was the perfect place for them. It offered them the privacy they needed along with all the amenities. It was also a perfect time of year for them to go, as it was Fall, and the chance of snow was minimal. Joseph would never have suggested The Lodge during the winter. It was too isolated, and the trip there too dangerous, but this time of year would be perfect. 

“All right Joe, make the arrangements for next week. Keep security, and staff to a minimum. Also let Mrs. Cowt know so she can send a cleaning team to prep,” His Majesty said as he stood. Glancing at the clock Rupert said, “Now let’s go join our lady for breakfast, and let her know about our plans.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 32**

 

Clarisse put down her pen, and leaned back in her chair. She thought back to the breakfast this morning, and to the announcement the men had made. They had informed her of their plans of going to the Lodge, just the three of them, with limited security and staff to ‘ _spend some time together’._ They had said it was to strengthen their bond, and to become more comfortable with each other, but Clarisse knew there were other reasons the men wanted more privacy. She knew they were anticipating the fulfilment of Joseph’s vow as  _quod paramour,_ and therein lay the problem for her. 

She didn’t know if she was ready to fully accept Joseph as her lover. 

Oh, she enjoyed his kisses, his caresses, and even sleeping near him, but she didn’t know if she was ready to take the final step, and allow him to make love to her. She knew Rupert had no qualms about Joseph fulfilling his vow. He had made that very clear to her. And she knew Joseph was more than willing, and eager to make love to her. She thought back to the kisses they shared and his declaration this morning. _‘Yes, he is more than eager,’_ thought Clarisse. 

_But was she? Lord, she didn’t know! Why was this so hard?_

She was being offered what she fantasized about for years. The thought of Joseph making love to her had fuelled many an erotic dream and fantasy. She, like most women and a few men, found Joseph to attractive, and sexy. His appeal often led to a few in the bath and late night fantasies for Clarisse. While her conscious mind admonished her for the fantasies, her subconscious mind revelled in them. Clarisse knew logically sexual fantasies were simply a sign of a healthy sex drive, but there were times, especially after some of her more risqué fantasies, she found it difficult to face Joseph. Now she was being handed the opportunity, on a silver platter, to find out how accurate her fantasies were, and she still didn’t know if she could or wanted to accept what was being offered! 

Clarisse stood abruptly and moved to the window to look out. 

What she needed was some advice. Unfortunately, there was no one to talk to about this. She could just imagine calling up Beatrix, Sonja or even Elizabeth and saying, ‘ _I’m being offered Joseph as a lover with Rupert’s permission. Should I accept? Do you have any advice?’_

Clarisse smiled as she imagined the three women’s reactions. All three women found Joseph attractive. Beatrix would tell her to accept then demand details. Sonja would tell her to say yes, and also want details. Elizabeth would be a bit more reserved in her answer. She would tell her to weigh the pros, and cons then go with what her heart said. She would then demand details after plying her with a good scotch. 

Unfortunately, she couldn’t ask any of them for advice. 

“Too bad one of the former queens couldn’t appear and offer some advice,” she murmured fancifully as she stared out the window. A soft knock on the door interrupted her musings and Clarisse turned to see who it was. 

It was Allison. “Excuse me, Your Majesty. Micah is here. Do you have time to see him?” 

Clarisse sighed. She didn’t really want to speak to anyone but Micah rarely visited. “Yes. Yes, I have time,” replied Clarisse. “Send him in.” 

Allison waved Micah in and softly closed the door. 

“Micah,” greeted Clarisse, walking over to the Royal Curator and taking his hand as she kissed his cheek. “To what do I owe this lovely visit?’ she asked. 

Micah smiled at Her Majesty as he pulled a heavy cream-coloured envelope from his jacket pocket. “I have something for you,” he said as he handed the envelope to Her Majesty. 

Clarisse turned it over in her hand, noting it was addressed to her in her maiden name and was sealed by the Royal Seal. “What is it?” she asked. 

“I have no idea,” Micah said. “I was simply instructed to give it to you on today’s date before midday by my predecessor. It has been in the vaults since the late 1950’s.” 

“The late fifties?” Clarisse questioned. 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Micah. “And while my curiosity is wanting to stay to find out exactly what it contains I am under instructions to give it to you then take my leave,” he added. 

“But who would write me?” wondered Clarisse aloud, mystified. She continued to stare at the envelope turning it over and over in her hands. 

“No idea, but after you read it, and if it is not too personal do you think you can tell an old man what it says,” asked Micah. “I’ve been dying to know for years.” 

“Oh, of course. If it is not too personal, I will be more than happy to let you read it,” Clarisse said, still trying to figure out who would be writing to her from such a long time ago. 

Micah said his goodbyes. Clarisse returned them distractedly. Clarisse buzzed Allison. After informing her that she didn’t want to be disturbed for the rest of the morning, she sat down on the loveseat, broke the Royal Seal on the envelope and pulled out a letter from inside. As Clarisse began to read she was glad she was already sitting because if she hadn’t been she was sure her legs would have given out at the first line. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

_June 16, 1957_

_  
_

_My darling granddaughter Clarisse,  
_

 

_Salut, ma petite-fille belle! It is wonderful to finally greet you.  
_

_You are perhaps wondering why I am writing you this letter years before you are officially presented to me as la femme de mon petit-fils de Rupert. It is because I know without a doubt that you Clarisse Mignonette Gerard will be the wife of my grandson Rupert Pierre Renaldi, Prince of Genovia.  
_

_I also know that your marriage will be one filled with amour et passion not unlike mon mari Arturo and mine.  
_

_And I also know that you will lead mon loup on a merry chase. That is how it should be. He, like his grand-père, is too confident of his abilities with women and needs to be challenged. You, ma petite-fille will challenge him as no other.  
_

_But that is not the reason I am writing this letter to you. I am writing this letter to you to offer you advice on the situation you are now facing as Queen and recipient of regina patronus quod paramour. How do I know you have had regina patronus quod paramour appointed to you? The answer is simple…I have seen it.  
_

_I will not go into detail of how I have seen it, suffice to say I have the gift of sight, and it is this gift that enables me to be able to see certain things. But, before I am able to give you advice I first must tell you of the vision I have been gifted with, one that I have told mon loup, mon petite-fils Rupert. The vision is as follows:  
_

_Her eyes will draw you. Her soul will sing with yours. Love her as no other. But it will not be you who must protect her. For that, you must find another. Her protection is paramount to the future of the Renaldi line. She will be loved by both wolf and leopard. Mon loup first, el_ _leopardo_ _second. Find the leopard, and protect the line, your love and the Crown.  
_

_This vision speaks of you ma colombe, it speaks of how you will be loved by both Rupert, mon loup and another man, a Spaniard, el_ _leopardo_ _. Who this Spaniard is and what is his name I do not know. The vision does not show me that. It only shows me that with his love, you will be able to face the hardships and heartbreak that will be inevitable in the coming years.  
_

_I am sorry that I cannot shield you from these heartaches ma colombe, but life is filled with joy and sorrow, both of which God requires us to experience. I know that you, with the support of el leopardo will be able to face these difficult times, and overcome them.  
_

_Now for my advice- Accept el_ _leopardo_ _unreservedly, both into your bed and arms, and into your heart. You have read my diaries. Do not repeat my mistake. I had too little time with my Marcus, and I forever regret my stubbornness, and pride.  
_

_Ma colombe, do not fear accepting him will lessen what you feel for mon loup, for it will not! You have more than enough love for both men. El_ _leopardo_ _will never give you cause for heartache or tears. He will always be there for you even when you choose your duty over your heart. Accept him, love him, and when the time comes marry him. For few find love even once in their life, and fewer experience it twice. Cherish both of their loves and you will be happier for it.  
_

_Now I must close this letter, seal it, and secure it in the vaults with instructions before my Arturo returns.  
_

_My visions make mon mari uncomfortable. So I bid you adieu, ma colombe, and I pray that my advice has helped you.  
_

 

_With all my love, your grand-mère ,_

_Mirielle Renaldi, Dowager Queen of Genovia and  
Regina Patronus Quod Paramour of Marcus Kensington_

 

Clarisse lay the letter on her lap and simply stared at it. Rupert’s grandmother, Queen Mirielle had written her a letter almost three years before she had become engaged to and subsequently married Rupert. A letter that spoke of both Rupert and another man, a Spaniard that Queen Mirielle referred to as _el leopardo_ \- the leopard. A man that could be none other than Joseph. 

Clarisse picked up the letter and read it again, finally coming to a decision. She gently folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope. She tucked the envelope into her jacket pocket, and walked out of her office. She needed to go to the vaults, first to tell Micah some of what the letter contained and then to safely store it in the Queen’s Library. It wouldn’t do for anyone to find it. 

After the vaults, Clarisse needed to find both her men and inform them of her decision about the Lodge trip and set a few ground rules. If she was going to fully accept Joseph she was going to accept him her way. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse stepped out of the Land Rover and took a deep breath. The air was crisp and cool and the view was wonderful. The Lodge, with its two story, old stone façade, and beautiful entryway was bordered by old oaks and walnut trees. The garage just to the left of the Lodge also boasted the same stone. The result was a truly lovely and peaceful view. 

Clarisse watched as the men unloaded the vehicles. Even Rupert helped to unload, and laughed when James reminded him he was King and not a footman. Once all the vehicles were unloaded, their suitcases taken inside, and final orders given Clarisse, Rupert, and Joseph entered the Lodge. 

James was already inside unpacking all their suitcases. His services as Royal Valet would not be needed this week, but he would be assisting Michael with the preparation, and cooking of the meals. Service would not be necessary, just preparation, and clean-up. As the kitchen had its own entrance this ensured the privacy of the Their Majesties. 

Clarisse slipped off her jacket and draped it across the chair. She accepted the glass of carbonated water from Rupert, and sat down on the plush sofa. Rupert sat down next to her. Joseph sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs facing the sofa. 

“Hmm, this is lovely,” she said. 

“Yes, it is,” said Rupert. 

“I agree,” added Joseph. 

All three sat in comfortable silence enjoying the quiet of the Lodge. 

“Your Majesties, Joseph, everything is unpacked,” James informed them. “Michael has taken the liberty of setting out a selection of meats, cheeses and fruits in the kitchen for later. If nothing further is required we shall take our leave and bid you a good evening.” 

“No, nothing further James. Thank you,” said Rupert. “And tell Michael thank you.” 

“I will,” replied James. “Goodnight Sir, Ma’am, Joseph.” 

“Good night James,” the three said. Minutes later they heard the distinct chime of the alarm being armed. 

Clarisse looked at her two men. The success or failure of this week hinged on their reactions. She knew Rupert would be willing but she wasn’t sure about Joseph. Placing her glass down on the coffee table Clarisse moved over to Rupert and kissed him slowly. When she felt his arms begin to go around her she whispered, “No.” 

Rupert dropped his arms. 

Clarisse ended the kiss and her thumb reached up to slowly caress Rupert’s lower lip. Rupert’s eyes widened and then darkened with desire. It was a sign that she hadn’t used in a long time but Rupert knew what it meant. She was asking if he yielded control to her. 

“Do you agree?” she asked, softly. 

Rupert didn’t trust his voice, instead he simply nodded yes and watched as she moved away. Clarisse stood and walked over to Joseph. She looked down at the man who would soon become her lover. She reached out, and caressed his cheek before rubbing her thumb slowly over his lower lip. 

“Joseph?” 

Joseph’s body felt on fire. Just a touch from his Queen was enough to set him aflame. The maddening caress of Clarisse’s thumb across his lower lip was driving him crazy. He wanted to take her in his arms, to kiss her, but he remembered the ground rules he had agreed to prior to trip here. She would make the first move, and make a request. His answer would set the stage for how the week progressed. 

“Yes,” he said, his voice strained. 

“Will you yield control to me?” she asked, her thumb continuing to rub across his lower lip as she knelt in front of him. 

Joseph looked down at her as she knelt in front of him. Was she asking him what he thought she was? Could he yield control to her, only doing what she commanded? And for how long would she retain control? Would it be for an hour? A day? All week? Could he suppress his natural tendency to want to be in control and surrender to her? He glanced over at his King, and noticed the other man’s reaction. Rupert was practically vibrating where he sat, the expression on his face surprising. Joseph had never seen such a look on His Majesty’s face. It was one of raw desire, and lust. It was that look that cemented Joseph’s answer. 

“Yes,” he said, surprised at the feeling of euphoria he felt. 

Clarisse pulled Joseph’s head down and kissed him slowly. When she felt his arms begin to pull her forward she said, “No” and gently ended the kiss. 

She had stopped kissing him. Why? Joseph looked confused. Did he do something wrong? Before he could ask Clarisse stood, and moved to stand between the sofa and chair. 

She looked at both men. Rupert was staring at her like a hungry wolf and Joseph looked like a leopard ready to pounce. “Mon loup, mi leopardo undress me,” she said. 

Both men jumped to their feet. Rupert moved to stand behind her while Joseph knelt in front. Rupert began to slowly unbutton her cardigan kissing her shoulders, and neck as he removed the cardigan and tossed it on the sofa. Rupert caressed Clarisse through her bra, teasing her nipples to hard peaks before moving to unclasp the front closure. Clarisse’s hand stayed his movements. Instead, she moved his hands to the front clasp of her pants. 

Joseph gently removed her shoes, placing them to the side. Seeing she was wearing trouser socks he reached under her pant legs to caress her toned calves as he removed her socks. He placed them near her shoes. His hands glided up the soft fabric of Clarisse’s pants to join Rupert’s hands at her waist. Rupert deftly unbuttoned, and unzipped her pants, and Joseph slowly pulled them down, coaxing first one leg then the other free of the pants. Joseph moved forward to remove her panties, while Rupert moved to unclasp her bra. Both men halted at Clarisse’s “stop,” and their hands dropped to their sides. 

“I am leaving the decision of who watches first up to the two of you,” she said as she sat down on the sofa. She watched as her two men carried on a whispered conversation before they joined her. 

Rupert sat on her left, while Joseph sat on her right. Rupert pulled Clarisse between his legs and growled in her ear, “I will watch first. “ He watched as Joseph pulled Clarisse’s legs up onto the sofa. “Joseph has never tasted you. Tonight he will finally have that chance, and I want to watch as he makes you come with his mouth,” he said as he caressed her satin-clad breasts. 

Joseph groaned at Rupert’s words. Joseph’s hands moved slowly up Clarisse’s legs enjoying the silky feel of her skin. He stopped when he reached her panties, and slowly, almost reverently slipped his fingers under the silk, and gently pulled them down to reveal her to his gaze. He stared at the soft curls that outlined the treasure hidden beneath, and wet his lips at the thought of her taste. 

“Isn’t she beautiful Joseph?” asked Rupert, his hands kneading Clarisse’s now bared breasts. 

“Hermosa,” he whispered, his gaze never leaving the soft curls between her thighs. 

“And she tastes doux comme le miel, _”_ Rupert said. “Taste her, my friend and see.” 

Joseph grabbed a cushion and placed it on the floor. He knelt on the cushion, and gently coaxed Clarisse’s legs open. He stared at the pink skin revealed to him, and slowly moved forward. He wanted to take his time, to love her slowly, but her scent filled his nostrils, and the first taste of her on his tongue drove all thoughts from his mind. 

He devoured her. Any technique he once possessed was a fleeting memory. He was out of control, and he didn’t care. 

His tongue coaxed the sweet nectar from her. His fingers caressed, and teased, drawing moans and pleas from her lips as his tongue greedily sought her sweet taste. 

All that mattered to Joseph was the taste, and scent of her. He lapped, nibbled, and suckled, spurred on by her cries of pleasure. When he felt her hand on his head pulling him closer he increased his efforts, his fingers driving faster into her as his lips closed over her clitoris, suckling the bundle of nerves until she screamed his name in pleasure. 

And still he did not stop. 

He greedily devoured all she had to offer, coaxing more of her sweet fluid from her body pushing her arousal higher until she shattered once again in ecstasy, her cry of "Joseph" filling the air. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

 

Clarisse roused to the feel of a soft fluttering caress. She moaned at the sensation of a tongue caressing her already sensitive flesh. She forced her eyes open to see the top of her husband’s head as he made love to her with his mouth. Her already sensitive flesh quivered as Rupert licked and suckled her sweet skin. 

“You taste as sweet as honey, _mi reina_ ” Joseph whispered in her ear as they watched Rupert. “I could spend hours tasting you, coaxing your sweet fluid from your body. Now that I have tasted you, I will crave you like a drug. You are an addiction I do not want to be free of.” 

Clarisse moaned at the combination of Joseph’s words and Rupert’s actions. She could not stop her mind from conjuring the image of Joseph kneeling, her legs over his shoulders, his tongue pleasuring her as she sat at her desk. How many times had she fantasized about just such an event? 

She wanted to beg and plead for them to stop, the pleasure they were giving skirted just on the edge of pain, but she couldn’t find the words. Instead, Clarisse arched up as Joseph’s hands teased her nipples, pulling and twisting the erect buds while Rupert suckled and teased her clitoris. 

Again and again pleasure and pain teetered, until finally pleasure won out and Clarisse screamed as her third orgasm robbed her of consciousness. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse woke to the feeling of liquid warmth. She opened her eyes to see Joseph, swathed in candlelight sitting in front of her. 

“You’re awake,” he said as he reached down beside him. He handed her a glass of clear liquid and she greedily drank the contents. “Better?,” he asked as he took the glass back. 

“Yes,” she said reclining back only to come to an abrupt halt at the feel of a body behind her. She turned her head to see Rupert behind her. “Relax,” he said as he gently coaxed her to lay against him. 

She was in the bath. But how? The last thing she remembered was being in the living room. 

At her questioning look Joseph said, “Rupert carried you upstairs while I ran the bath. We decided you waking in a warm bath was far better than waking on the sofa in the living room.” 

Clarisse sighed. “Yes, it is. Thank you.” 

“No, thanks are needed, my love,” said Rupert. “Now that you are awake I think it is time for your bath, ma reine.” 

Joseph passed a sponge to Rupert and picked up one of his own. He poured bath gel on both sponges and lifting Clarisse’s leg out of the water he began to gently bathe her starting at her foot. With one leg done, Joseph repeated his actions on the other. 

Rupert began to bathe Clarisse’s arms and shoulders, massaging the area gently with the sponge. He moved to her chest where he paid special attention to her lush breasts, drawing gasps, and moans from her at the sensation of the sponge trailing over her sensitive nipples. Joseph dipped his sponge into the water, added more bath gel and coaxed Clarisse to stand. Once standing, Joseph trailed the sponge up her inner thigh to her mound where he ran the sponge gently over the sensitive flesh of her centre. Clarisse gripped Rupert’s shoulders to steady herself as the as the texture of the sponge teased her sensitive flesh. 

“Oh,” she gasped as Joseph teased her flesh. Her knees felt weak and she was sure she would fall if not for Rupert’s support. The teasing stopped as quickly as it had started, and Clarisse was once again urged to sit, and lean against Rupert. Joseph wrung out both sponges and placed them along with the bath gel in their little holder. He poured three glasses of champagne from the bottle that had been resting in a champagne bucket on the floor. He handed Clarisse and Rupert both a glass, before taking his. Clarisse thanked Joseph and took a sip of the cool liquid. She reclined against Rupert completely comfortable with her nudity in front of both men. They sat there in silence just enjoying the warmth of the moment before Rupert spoke. 

“What would you like to do next, ma reine?” he asked. 

“I would like to make love with both of you,” said Clarisse. She smiled at their immediate looks of interest. “But I am afraid I will have to postpone that particular delight until at least tomorrow. As I’m afraid I would fall asleep if we tried tonight,” she added, unable to stifle the yawn that slipped out. 

“Do you have a preference, mi reina?” asked Joseph. 

“A preference?” asked Clarisse. 

“Of which one of us first,” replied Rupert. 

Clarisse looked at both men and said, “Again I will leave that decision up to the two of you.” 

“I think Joseph and I can come to an agreement,” said Rupert. “But now I think it is time for us to get out of the bath before we look like prunes. And you fall asleep,” teased Rupert. He took Clarisse’s champagne glass and handed it to Joe, who put it on the floor away from the tub. Rupert then coaxed Clarisse to stand. Joseph held out his hand to assist her out of the bath. He then draped a bath sheet around her body and handed a second one to Rupert. 

“While you two dry off I am going to take a quick shower,” said Joseph. 

Rupert bent over to pick up the champagne, and glasses before replying. “Come join us in bed as soon as you are done,” he said. 

“I will,” replied Joseph as began to strip. He stepped into the shower and ten minutes later was wrapped in a towel. He flipped off the bathroom light and entered the dimly lit bedroom. 

When he reached the bed he saw that Clarisse and Rupert were both asleep. Rupert lay on his side while Clarisse lay on her back next to him. Joseph switched off the light on Rupert’s side of the bed, walked around and turned off the one on his side. He dropped his towel, slid into bed and turned on his side. With an arm draped across Clarisse he slipped into sleep.

 

 


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 33**

 

Clarisse woke, she climbed out of bed, careful not to wake either man, and slipped into the bathroom. Returning, she carefully climbed back into bed between her two men. She looked at the two of them, one so familiar, one not, but soon to become familiar.  She let her gaze travel over Rupert first. He was even more handsome now then he was when they first married. She adored the touch of silver at the sides of his temples. It always reminded her of one of her favourite actors, Stewart Granger. But where Mr. Granger was lithe and lean with very little muscle definition Rupert had a well-defined body. A body she loved to watch move, especially in a pair of well-tailored pants. Or riding breeches. Or even jeans. 

_‘Oh, yes,_ ’ Clarisse thought. ‘ _Jeans...jeans, boots, leather jacket, leather chaps.’_ Clarisse licked her lips at the thought of both men dressed in that fashion. She wondered if they would be interested in taking their motorcycles out for a drive come spring. She knew Joseph didn’t like the security risks but if they perhaps took a drive up to one of the reserves, he would be more likely to agree. 

Gazing at Rupert, Clarisse let her thoughts drift to their sons. 

Their sons. 

Each handsome in their own right. Pierre took after Rupert, while Philippe favoured his grandfather. Both were Renaldi’s through and through- stubborn, wilful, tenacious, prideful, determined, and loving. She wondered if her granddaughter favoured Philippe in temperament or Helen? 

Clarisse closed her eyes briefly at the pain she felt at the loss of her granddaughter Amelia. They had known her for less than a week before Helen had taken her back to America. She had only been allowed to hold the precious girl twice, Rupert only once before she was snatched out of their lives. 

Oh, how she hated Philippe at times for his decision! 

So many times she had wanted to simply fly to San Francisco, knock on Helen’s door, and ask to see her granddaughter. 

But she couldn’t. 

If she did there was a good chance that Helen would leave, simply disappear taking Amelia with her. So she didn’t, instead she comforted herself with pictures. Pictures of Amelia that even Philippe didn’t know they had. Albums, and albums filled with the precious girl. 

There were times she wanted to scream, yell and slap her youngest son for tearing the family apart. 

Family was important, and Philippe’s decision had not reflected that importance. His decision was based on selfishness, on self-interest instead of what was best for the family! He tried to justify his decision, but to Clarisse his justifications rang false. 

Oh, she still loved him, he was her son, but there were times where she really did not like him! 

Clarisse was grateful to Rupert for not including Philippe in the _regina patronus quod paramour_ ceremony. As Pierre said, he wouldn’t have understood. He would have condemned it, and them with it. 

She closed her eyes fervently praying that when Joseph’s new position within the family was finally revealed to him, he would react with understanding. _‘Although I don’t see that occurring,_ ’ thought Clarisse. 

“You are thinking rather loudly, reina mia.” 

Clarisse turned to look at Joseph. She smiled softly, shifting to lay on her side to face him. “Hello,” she said. 

“Hello,” returned Joseph. “What were you thinking about?” he asked. 

“This and that,” answered Clarisse. She reached up to cup his cheek. Joseph grasped her hand in his, turned it and placed a soft kiss to the palm of her hand. Clarisse’s stomach fluttered in response. 

“Just this and that?” he asked, still holding her hand. He caressed the skin softly with his thumb. 

“A myriad of things but nothing that needs to be spoken about right now,” she said. The caresses to her hand were sending tendrils of pleasure throughout her body. 

“Good,” replied Joseph. “I hadn’t wanted to talk right now anyway. I want to worship you instead,” he said huskily. 

“How are you going to worship me if you don’t speak?” asked Clarisse. “Won’t it be difficult to extol my virtues if you don’t utter a word,” she teased. 

Joseph hand moved up Clarisse’s arm, caressing her skin softly until he reached her shoulder, where he stoked her soft skin with just his fingertips. “I prefer actions over words,” he whispered, lifting himself up, poised over her. 

Clarisse lay flat on her back, looking at Joseph above her. She cupped his cheek tenderly. “And these actions will illustrate your worship of me?” she asked, her gaze moving from his eyes to his lips and back again. 

“Yes,” answered Joseph lowering his head. He stopped just a hairs-breadth away from her lips. “With my body...with my body I thee worship,” he said before kissing her softly. 

Clarisse sighed into the soft kiss. Joseph kept the kiss soft, he traced her lips with his tongue, retreating when he felt her tongue reach out to his. He nipped, suckled, and caressed her lips teasing Clarisse until with a moan of frustration she grabbed his head to hold it still, and kissed him passionately. 

Joseph moaned at the deepening of the kiss. His hands, which were softly caressing her shoulders now slipped down her sides to caress her from shoulder to hip. One hand slid from her hip to her derriere, pulling her tightly against his. They both groaned at the contact this movement created. 

“Oh..” moaned Clarisse. 

She could feel how hot and hard Joseph was. She rotated her hips against him, teasing herself. Joseph slid his hand from her derriere up her back to her chest. His fingers caressed the underside of her breast before moving to her nipple, sliding the erect bud between his fingers. His lips sucked and nipped Clarisse’s neck as he teased her nipple with his fingers.  Joseph trailed kisses from her neck to her breasts, kissing the lush flesh of her breasts before taking a nipple between his lips, and suckling the taut flesh. Clarisse keened at Joseph’s ministrations, holding his head tightly against her breast as he sucked. The stray thought of Joseph suckling from her ratcheted her arousal higher, and she arched up against him. 

Joseph switched between nipples, sucking, and teasing each as he drowned in the scent of her. There was so much he wanted to do with her. So much of her body he wanted to taste, but the feel of her against him, the heat radiating from her body was rapidly diminishing his control.  The need to feel her around and surrounding him was overwhelming. He shifted them until she was once again laying prone beneath him. He lifted his head from her breasts, looked down at her flushed face and kissed her once again. 

He murmured against her lips, “I can’t wait.” 

Clarisse slid her leg up to hook around his. “Then don’t,” she said, her hands moving across his shoulders, and down his back to draw him closer. 

“Condom?” he husked, his protection of his queen absolute. 

“Menopause,” Clarisse answered. She didn’t bother to ask if he was healthy, she knew he would tell her. 

Joseph nodded and said, “Clean.” 

Joseph shifted, his erection sliding through her curls, spreading her wetness along the length of his cock. He clenched his teeth. She was so hot, so wet and he hadn’t even entered her yet. He wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to hold off coming when he finally did enter her.  

Pulling one leg up onto his hip he grasped his cock in his hand, and positioned himself at her opening. He took a deep breath. He slid into her slowly, his teeth clenched against the exquisite feel, and heat of her. Fully seated he stopped moving, his breath escaping in pants. Joseph looked into Clarisse’s eyes. Her eyes were black, the pupils eclipsing the normal sapphire blue. Her chest rose and fell with shallow gasps.  And when she squeezed her internal muscles around him Joseph choked out, “…don’t.” His eyes slipped closed, his forehead wrinkled, gasps escaping him as he fought for what little control of his remained. 

Clarisse repeated her internal movements. She could feel every glorious inch of Joseph. She wanted nothing more than to feel him moving in, and out of her. She shifted her hips, her action bringing a gasp from her, and a groan from Joseph. She repeated her action, this time a growl erupted from Joseph. 

Clarisse shifted once more. 

Joseph’s control shattered. 

He pulled her leg higher onto his hip, levered himself up, and began thrusting into her. The feel of her as he slid in, and out was magnificent. He would pull almost all the way out, allowing only the tip of his penis to remain inside before sliding back in, only to repeat the rhythm again, and again. Clarisse clutched at Joseph’s arms. The feel of him sliding in, and out of her combined with the friction of his chest hair across her nipples was fuelling her body’s arousal. She gasped at one particularly hard thrust from Joseph. 

“Oh god…yes…Joseph…yes,” she panted. Her body was tightening at the stimulation it was receiving, and she knew it was only a matter of minutes before she would come. 

Joseph could feel the small tremors, and flutters inside Clarisse. He knew she was close to orgasm, as was he. He knelt up on his knees, and pulled her up onto his thighs. She was now open to him, allowing him to not only thrust into her harder, and faster but also to stimulate her clitoris with his fingers. He pulled her legs up onto his shoulders. His thrusts into her became faster, more erratic as he caressed her clit with his thumb and forefinger. He could feel the fluttering of her walls along his shaft as he drove into her. He let her legs drop from his shoulders to his hips. With a few hard quick thrusts he felt her explode in orgasm as she screamed, “JOSEPH!” 

Her orgasm triggered his and his shout of “CLARISSE” reverberated off the bedroom walls. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  

Rupert watched as Clarisse came. A sight more beautiful, and infinitely more erotic than any he had ever witnessed. 

He had woke to see his beautiful wife being made love to by Joseph. He had watched as they kissed, caressed, and he marvelled at how exquisite Clarisse looked. He had remained quiet, and still as he watched Joseph learn the taste, and texture of his beautiful wife. Rupert felt his mouth water, and his lips tingle as he watched Joseph kiss, and suckle Clarisse’s lush breasts. Rupert could still remember how incredibly sweet she tasted when she nursed their sons. He wondered if Joseph was intrigued by the thought of suckling from Clarisse. From the way he was tasting, and teasing her breasts he was sure he was a man who found the idea agreeable. 

As the two continued to kiss, and caress Rupert’s hand drifted down to his groin, his cock already erect, and throbbing thanks to the visual stimulation he was receiving. He slid his hand along his erect cock, biting his lip to stifle the moan that automatically rose to his lips. As he continued to watch Joseph make love to their Clarisse, he stroked his cock in time with the other man’s thrust. Soon he was lost in the sensual enchantment that seemed to permeate the room. 

When he heard Clarisse gasp then shout Joseph’s name he thrust harder into his hand, his cock throbbing. Rupert could feel white hot pleasure shoot up his spine, and when Joseph shouted his release Rupert thrust twice more into his hand before spilling his seed across it and his stomach. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse looked at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look any different. She had wondered if after making love to Joseph then enjoying Rupert’s attentions in the shower this morning if she would look different. But gazing at the reflection in the mirror she couldn’t see any difference. 

Granted she was well-satisfied, extremely so, and surprisingly energetic. 

She was also ravenous. 

She felt as if she could eat a horse, or at the very least, a large English breakfast. Who knew fantastic sex gave one a ravenous appetite, and energy to spare. Certainly not she. 

She laughed out loud. 

Opening the door to the bedroom she stopped at the questioning looks from Rupert and Joseph. 

“Something funny, my dear?” asked Rupert. 

“Care to share?” asked Joseph. 

“Just happy.” 

“I see,” both men replied. 

Clarisse smiled. “Now does anyone know where one could get breakfast around here? I am ravenous,” she announced as she slipped her arms through both men’s before dragging them down the hall and to the stairs.

 


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

C **hapter 34**

 

The week spent at the Lodge followed no set pattern. Rupert, Clarisse and Joseph spent almost every waking and sleeping moment together in some capacity. Their talks ranged from music to more personal subjects. She discovered Joseph listened to almost every style of music, but enjoyed hard rock music when he worked out. And while she knew Rupert’s musical tastes she was still surprised when he, and Joseph agreed AC/DC was perhaps the best music to listen to when sparring. The men managed to find a radio station playing rock music, specifically “Dirty Deeds Done Cheap”. Clarisse couldn’t say she was fond of the lyrics but she could understand why the men enjoyed the music when sparring. 

They teased Clarisse about her love of Tom Jones. 

“I just love to look at him,” Clarisse said. “Especially when he dances.” 

“Clarisse!” both men exclaimed. Clarisse simply smiled. 

Of course neither man was happy when she informed them if she had to pick her favourite singer it would have to be José Carreras- she loved his voice, and he was handsome. Both men groused about that bit of information. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Rupert handed Joseph a snifter of brandy and Clarisse her wine. He took his seat next to Clarisse and pulled her feet up into his lap. 

“Joe?” he said. 

“Yes?” 

“Tell us about Elena,” asked Rupert. 

“Who is Elena?” asked Clarisse.

“My wife,” said Joseph. 

Clarisse stared at Joseph in shock. “I didn’t know you were married,” said Clarisse, her breath catching at the pain that lanced through her. 

“Was married,” replied Joseph. “She died twenty years ago.” 

Clarisse stood quickly, walking over to Joseph, she knelt in front of his chair taking his hand in hers. “I am so sorry Joseph,” she said, placing a soft kiss to his hand. 

“Thank you,” Joseph said, as he caressed her cheek. 

“If you don’t want to talk about her, I…we understand,” said Clarisse, nodding toward Rupert. 

Caressing her hand with his thumb Joseph said, “No, I don’t mind talking about her. What would you like to know?” he asked. His question was directed to Rupert. 

“Anything you would like to tell us,” said Rupert. 

Joseph stood and pulled Clarisse to her feet. He walked with her over to the sofa where Rupert sat. He sat down on the opposite end, pulling Clarisse down next to him. She shifted, placing her feet in Rupert’s lap and reclining against Joseph’s side. 

“I met Elena when I was still in the Legion,” began Joseph. “I was on leave and bumped into her literally, knocking the bags she was carrying out of her hands.” Joseph smiled at the memory. “She yelled at me. Loudly and without ever repeating herself once. I think I fell in love with her at that moment. She wouldn’t accept my apologies, nor my help and when she finally managed to wrangle all her groceries back into her bags she left. I was still crouched on the sidewalk, watching as she walked away. That was the beginning.” 

Clarisse laughed. “Not the most auspicious of beginnings,” she said. 

“No, it wasn’t,” said Joseph. “And the next meeting was even worse. What I didn’t know was that she was the attaché assigned to my unit. Our second meeting took place during a training exercise, two of my men were so busy watching her walk that they both almost lost their heads, literally. If it hadn’t been for two of their comrades quick thinking they would have. I wasn’t pleased and began giving them a dressing down then turned on Elena asking her what the hell she thought she was doing interrupting a training exercise. She immediately yelled back, much to my men’s amusement. Told me she was the new attaché, that she had every right to witness any training exercise and if I didn’t like it I should take it up with General Constiago. She left, leaving me speechless, and most of my men in love with her.” 

“After that we began working together. We argued, we laughed, she had a wicked sense of humour and I began to want to spend every minute with her. Finally, I asked her out, she accepted and six months later we married in Barcelona.” 

“What happened?” asked Clarisse. 

Clarisse felt Joseph take a deep breath. “We had been married for two years when she started to have headaches. At first they were normal headaches but soon they changed. They became worse. They would cause her to pass out from the pain. We went to our family doctor who referred to us to a specialist. They did a battery of tests on her. Finally they gave us the diagnosis. She had a brain tumour. It was inoperable,” whispered Joseph. 

“They said she had at least a year, perhaps less to live. The doctors told us what we could expect. They said she would begin to weaken, become tired, sleep more and more until one day she would slip into a coma and die. I took extended leave to be with her. I didn’t want to miss one single day of what was left our life together. Five months after the diagnosis I came home from grocery shopping. Elena had wanted tapas for dinner. She had been eating less, one of the side effects of the tumour was a reduced appetite. So when she said she was hungry for tapas I decided to go to the market for all the ingredients, in order to make a variety of them. She had assured me she would be fine for an hour alone, so I left telling her to call Constance, our neighbour if she needed anything. She promised she would. When I arrived home I found her asleep on the sofa. I didn’t wake her immediately, instead I put away the food then went to wake her. When I bent to kiss her I realized she was cold,” Joseph said. 

“Oh Joseph.” 

Joseph continued. “She had died in her sleep, a soft smile on her lips.” 

Joseph could feel the tears on his cheeks, but he made no attempt to wipe them away. 

“I don’t remember much of the funeral or even the week after. Constance, Miguel her husband, and Marta, my cousin took care of most of the things. I do remember feeling as if my life was over. If it hadn’t been for the Legion I think my life would have ended.” 

“It took almost a year before I could look at a picture of Elena or think about her without feeling as if my heart would break. I had sold our house, packed up all my belongings, and returned to the Legion. I still miss her and love her,” finished Joseph. 

Clarisse turned and placed a soft kiss on Joseph’s cheek. Joseph cupped her cheek. “There was one good thing that came from losing Elena though,” said Joseph. 

“And what is that?” asked Clarisse. Not understanding how anything good could come from losing someone you love. She knew if she lost Rupert she would be devastated. 

“I was able to come to the Palace, meet you and be given the honour of _regina patronus quod paramour,_ ” he said. 

“If she had lived I would never had taken the position as Head of Security. I am sure of this,” Joseph said with conviction. “Life has a way of giving even when it takes away.” 

The three sat in silence for a bit before Joseph spoke. “Now that I have told you about Elena I want to hear about your first meeting, and how you came to be married. I know it was arranged but Rupert mentioned something about you, Clarisse not being receptive to his advances. There is a story behind that statement, and I would like to hear it, if you don’t mind,” said Joseph. 

Clarisse smiled, sharing a look with Rupert. Joseph’s brows rose when Rupert blushed. 

“The first time Rupert and I met I was only seventeen and he was twenty-three. I was attending University, as I had been moved up during my time in school resulting in me leaving sixth form at age sixteen. I had just completed my first year, and was home to visit before returning to England to complete an alternate term in the late summer. The entire family was attending one of the many functions at the Palace. I had been presented to Rupert earlier in the day. As the day wore on I became bored, so I decided to take a walk through the maze. I ended up at the fountain in the centre of the maze. Rupert was already there, evidently hiding,” said Clarisse. 

“I wasn’t hiding,” said Rupert, the smile on his face belying the irritated tone of his voice. “I was enjoying the solitude.” 

“As I said, Rupert was there hiding. When I came around the corner he was surprised, as was I. I hadn’t expected to see him. Following protocol I curtsied, apologized for disturbing him and turned to leave,” said Clarisse. 

“I was surprised when I felt a strong hand on my arm. The next minute I was staring into Rupert’s eyes. For some odd reason, I am still not sure why, I ordered him to release me. His didn’t answer me. Instead, he just stared at me then he kissed me. I was at first shocked, then I became angry. I pushed at him, and he fell into the fountain. I left, not even bothering to see if he was alright. By the time I reached my parents I was sure I was going to be hung by my toes in the courtyard for assaulting the Crown Prince. I pleaded a headache to my mother, who took one look at my pale face, and immediately ordered me home.” 

Rupert took up the tale. “What Clarisse didn’t know was when we were formally introduced it took all my self-control not to kiss her. One look into her eyes, and I was smitten. I kept hearing my grand-mere’s voice in my head saying _‘her eyes will draw you’_. I honestly didn’t remember meeting anyone else after being introduced to Clarisse. My reaction to her was unsettling. I had gone to the maze to think. Imagine my surprise when the person I was thinking about suddenly appeared before me. When I looked into her eyes again I knew I wanted her for my wife. When she told me to release her something in me screamed never. I kissed her since it was what I had wanted to do since I first met her. After she pushed me into the fountain, I realized my pursuit of her was not going to be easy. But something in me told me it would more than worth it.” 

“And after that everything fell into place?” asked Joseph. 

Rupert and Clarisse laughed and answered, “Hardly.” 

“Hardly?” 

“My father considered her completely unsuitable for Royal Consort. My maman and grand-mere adored her as did my uncle. I was adamant that she was going to be my wife. Her parents had reservations about me,” said Rupert. 

“Rupert’s reputation did not impress my papa” said Clarisse. “My mother liked him and it was she who talked Papa round. Papa had a reputation that rivalled Rupert’s when he was younger which Mama reminded Papa of. As his reputation was Papa’s only real objection concerning Rupert, he eventually conceded defeat.” 

“And Clarisse did you concede to everyone’s wishes?” asked Joseph. 

Rupert’s bark of laughter answered Joseph’s question. 

“For two years she led me on a merry chase,” said Rupert. “Our parents had signed the contracts, everything had been agreed on but Clarisse hadn’t given a definitive yes or no. I was adamant that she have the final say. I didn’t want her to be forced into the marriage. I wanted a partner, a friend, a lover. I wanted someone who I could share everything with. I knew I loved her, but she was still unsure. It took me two years to wear her down.” Rupert placed a soft kiss to Clarisse’s hand.   

“Actually, I was ready to marry Rupert six months after the contracts were signed,” Clarisse revealed to Joseph. 

“You were?” asked Rupert, shocked at the revelation. 

“Yes, darling I was,” she said, moving to lean against Rupert. 

“Then why did you make me wait for two years before you said yes?” he asked. 

“I was waiting for you to come to your senses.” 

“My senses?”

“Yes, darling. I was so sure if I waited long enough that you would realize I wasn’t Consort material,” whispered Clarisse. “There were so many woman eminently more qualified than I to be Royal Consort. I was sure if I made you wait long enough you would see how unsuitable I was to be your wife.” 

“Unsuitable? Mon Dieu woman! You are all I have ever wanted,” Rupert said, his lips crashing down on hers to illustrate his point. 

Clarisse surrendered to the kiss. 

Rupert ended the kiss. He held Clarisse’s face in between his hands. “And to think I could have lost you,” he whispered pulling her close. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The Friday before they were scheduled to leave Clarisse broached the subject of Philippe, and informing him of Joseph’s new position. 

“He will be informed when I deem it necessary,” Rupert said. 

“Darling, I think it would be best if he were informed sooner rather than later,” said Clarisse. She held up her hand to forestall his argument. “Hear me out, please. If we inform him presently, it will give him time to come to terms with the situation. We both know his response will not be positive, but I would rather present a united front instead of a separate one,” she explained. “The only way for us to do that is to schedule the time, and place to inform him. Rather than waiting for his schedule, and his convenience. And the earlier he is informed the less likely he will accidently discover the situation.” 

“I have to agree with Clarisse, Rupert,” said Joseph. “While I would prefer to wait to inform him, the first time he sees me without a shirt on he will know I am _regina patronus quod paramour_. I know he learned of the position, it’s history, and even the brand from Micah when he became Heir-Apparent.” 

Clarisse and Joseph watched Rupert pace the floor of the library. They could see him weigh the pros and cons of their argument. They waited patiently for him to reach a decision. 

“Fine. We will inform him of Joseph’s new position AFTER the holidays,” said Rupert. “I don’t want to deal with his attitude during the joyous time of the year. But,” he added, “if he causes any problems; insults either you, Clarisse, or you Joseph…” Rupert stopped speaking in an attempt to control his temper. 

“If he offers insult, or injury to either of you I will strip him of his position, rights and liberties as Heir- Apparent, making Amelia- our granddaughter heir to the throne. I will not allow him to cause anymore injury to the Bloodline,” ground out Rupert. 

Rupert stalked out of the library. They heard the slam of the heavy front door seconds later. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse stood and walked to the window. She clenched the drapes in her hands, and stared out into the rapidly descending darkness worried about Rupert. 

“My Queen, he will be fine. Miguel is with him. If there were any problems he would have immediately radioed in,” said Joseph, taking Clarisse in his arms. 

“My head knows he is fine Joseph, but my heart…” Clarisse started to explain. 

“Clarisse…” Rupert called from the doorway. 

Clarisse crossed the room quickly to embrace him. 

Joseph watched as they held each other, their words too soft for him to hear. Their expressions conveyed the deep love they held for each other. 

Joseph smiled. Everything was fine. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Joseph finished his workout. He pulled his soaked t-shirt off, wiping the sweat from his face, head and chest. He had left Rupert and Clarisse to talk about Philippe. He was confident in Clarisse’s abilities to convince Rupert to temper his reactions if Philippe did insult his mother or him. In all honesty, he hoped Philippe would be stupid enough to insult him. Philippe’s penchant for temper first, thinking later would allow him in his capacity as _regina patronus quod paramour_ to set the boy straight on some of his preconceived ideas. Tossing the t-shirt over his shoulder he headed to his room to shower before going in search of Rupert and Clarisse.   

Showered and changed Joseph checked first in the suite. When he didn’t find them there he proceeded downstairs. He checked the living room, sitting room, and dining room. There was no sign of them in any of those rooms. He tried the kitchen then the library. They weren’t in either of those rooms. He finally tried the billiard room. Opening the door he stopped at the sight that greeted him before stepping through the door and locking it behind him. 

He moved further into the room his gaze never leaving the scene before him. 

Clarisse was bent over the edge of the billiard table, clad in only garter belt, stocking and heels. But it wasn’t that image that caused his shaft to thicken. It was the fact she was tied to the table, her legs spread, her ankles and wrists secured in cuffs as Rupert spanked her. The moans coming from her were going straight to his groin. 

He moved closer, and watched as Rupert rained varying smacks to her delectable derriere. Every time his hand landed she arched her back, begging and moaning. 

“Oh god…please,” begged Clarisse arching back. 

“Please what?” growled Rupert, sliding his hand over the warmed pink skin of her derrière. 

“Please…fuck me,” she begged. “Please, I need…” 

Joseph’s shaft throbbed at the sound of Clarisse using such coarse language. He never realized how arousing it was to hear her curse. 

Rupert delivered a firm slap to where her thigh and butt met. He massaged the area after spanking it. “I know what you need,” he said letting his fingers slide in between her thighs to ghost over her centre. “And I will give you what you need as soon as Joseph arrives,” Rupert said. Rupert turned to see Joseph standing off to the side. 

“Joseph is here now,” Rupert informed Clarisse, not in the least surprised when she moaned and arched her hips. 

Rupert turned to Joseph and asked, “Alright?” 

Joseph knew exactly what Rupert was asking him. “Yes,” he answered and waited for instructions.

“Please…please…I need…” Clarisse begged, rotating her hips against the table. Rupert delivered a slap to Clarisse’s left buttock. “Don’t move,” he ordered her. Clarisse immediately stilled her movements, her moans filling the room. 

“Strip,” Rupert ordered Joseph. Joseph immediately complied. His full attention on Clarisse tied to the table. 

“Stand here,” Rupert ordered Joseph, indicating he should stand behind Clarisse. Joseph’s erection was throbbing. Rupert wasn’t surprised at the Joseph’s arousal. Rupert’s erection was just as hard and he wanted nothing more than to bury it inside of Clarisse, but he had other plans first. 

“Enter her,” Rupert ordered. He watched as Joseph slid into Clarisse. “Oh yes…” moaned Clarisse. This is what she needed. When Joseph began to thrust Rupert said, “Stop!” 

Joseph’s gaze shot to his, surprised at the order but he stopped. He couldn’t do anything else. He was sworn to obey his King. Clarisse pleaded for Joseph to move, rotating her hips. Rupert squeezed her hip to stop her. “Don’t move,” he ordered. 

Stepping back Rupert said, “Neither of you will move unless I order it. Do you understand Clarisse? No movement. If you move before I allow you, I will order Joseph to remove himself and I will leave you tied to the table as punishment. Do you understand?” 

Clarisse whimpered. She answered, “yes,” in a strained whisper. 

“Joseph?” Rupert asked. 

“I understand,” he ground out, praying he would be able to follow these orders. 

“When I order you Joseph, I want you to thrust once, and only once into Clarisse. Clarisse you are not to move when Joseph moves. Do you understand?” 

Clarisse nodded her head. 

“Aloud Clarisse,” said Rupert. 

“Yes,” she said. 

Rupert stepped back, enjoying the sight of his wife and her paramour under his complete control. Rupert waited for a few seconds before saying, “Now.” At his order Joseph thrust just once, then stopped. 

Clarisse moaned at the feel of Joseph moving inside her. She fought her natural urge to meet his thrust. Rupert had teased her for almost an hour before Joseph arrived. First with caresses then by tying her up then with spankings. She was so aroused that she knew no more than a dozen strokes would have her coming. Rupert was controlling those strokes now, forcing her arousal higher. Rupert began varying the frequency of Joseph’s strokes into Clarisse. He went from a series of thrusts in quick succession to single thrusts spaced out over minutes. Clarisse’s legs began to shake, her cries and pleas became louder and more frequent. After one particular slow series of thrusts Rupert said, “Fuck her Joe. Make her come.” 

Joseph needed no further urging and began thrusting faster and harder into Clarisse, his hands pulling her hips hard against his. Clarisse’s scream signalled her orgasm and Joseph followed almost immediately after, his release bathing her womb. He collapsed against her back as she collapsed against the table. Finally recovered, Joseph moved, helping Rupert to release Clarisse. Rupert lifted his exhausted wife into his arms, and with Joseph leading carried her upstairs. Rupert’s arousal hadn’t diminished but he could wait. After all, they weren’t leaving until tomorrow afternoon.

 


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 35**

 

Joseph woke early the following morning to the sight that would forever be etched in his memory. The sight of the Rupert and Clarisse making slow, sensual love. Joseph wasn’t even sure they were truly awake. Their movements were soft and gentle. They spoke of a familiarity and love. Every soft sigh and gentle touch they shared touched Joseph’s heart. The love they felt for each other brought tears to his eyes. As he watched the two most important people in his life strive for fulfilment he once again thanked the heavens he was able to experience even a small portion of the love they held for each other. 

His vow to serve as _regina patronus quod paramour_ was augmented by another more personal vow. He would ensure no one ever caused either of these two harm. It didn’t matter if it was physical, mental or emotional, he vowed no harm would come to either of them as long as there was breath left in him. 

Clarisse was the first to achieve release and her release was beautiful. Joseph watched amazed as her skin flushed a delicate pink, bringing a soft rosy hue to the myriad of freckles that covered her skin. Rupert’s release came almost immediately after. Joseph watched the muscles in his neck and back strain then tighten before relaxing. The lovers shifted, their arms around the other. Their breathing deepened indicating they were once again deep in sleep. 

Joseph lay quietly on his side watching over his King and Queen.

  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Joseph poured one cup of tea, added a bit of milk to it then set it down on the table. He poured two cups of coffee, added cream and sugar to both and placed one on the table while he carried the other over to the window. He sipped his coffee as he waited. Rupert and Clarisse should be joining him soon. The sound of heels clicking on the floor heralded their arrival, and he smiled as they walked into the sitting room hand in hand. 

“Good morning,” he said, lifting his coffee cup up in greeting. 

“Good morning,” Rupert and Clarisse chorused as they sat down at the small table. Joseph walked over to join them. 

“Sleep well?” Joseph asked. 

“Very,” answered Rupert. 

“Extremely well,” answered Clarisse. 

“As did I,” said Joseph before either could ask him how he slept. “Oh, by the way. Thank you,” said Joseph. 

“You’re welcome, but what are you thanking us for?” asked Rupert, his expression confused. Clarisse’s expression mirrored her husband’s. 

“For the gift I was given this morning,” answered Joseph. 

“Gift? What gift?” they asked. 

“The gift of watching you two make love.” 

Clarisse blushed. Rupert looked intrigued. “I don’t remem…”suddenly Rupert remembered his dream this morning. 

“Oh…” Clarisse said, remembering her dream this morning. 

“I thought I was dreaming,” Clarisse said softly. 

“As did I,” said Rupert. 

Taking his wife’s hand in his he placed a soft kiss to it. “It seems it wasn’t a dream,” said Rupert.

“No, definitely not a dream,” blushed Clarisse, remembering the slow love that Rupert had made to her. 

“No, it wasn’t a dream,” said Joseph. “It was perhaps the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed,” he added softly. He chucked softly when not only Clarisse but Rupert blushed as well. 

Rupert replied, “It is the same when I watch you love Clarisse.” 

Joseph inclined his head at the compliment. Looking over at the still blushing Clarisse, Joseph said, “She is by far the most beautiful creature on Earth.” 

“In existence, my friend. In existence.” 

“Yes, in existence,” agreed Joseph. 

Clarisse ducked her head in embarrassment. She could handle flowery compliments from diplomats, ambassadors, and leaders of the worlds countries, but compliments from Rupert and Joseph brought a blush to her cheeks and butterflies to settle in her stomach. Looking up her breath caught at the looks of love, desire and adoration from each man.  Joseph moved first, placing a soft kiss to her lips then another before slipping into her mouth and deepening the kiss. The only part of his body touching hers were his lips, and tongue. He tasted her mouth, sweeping his tongue inside to taste, and tangle with her tongue before nipping, and sucking at her lips. Clarisse whimpered at the blatant sexuality of the kiss. When he finally ended the kiss, Clarisse’s cheeks were flushed in arousal rather than embarrassment.  

Clarisse had no time to recover before Rupert captured her lips in an equally hungry kiss. Like Joseph he used nothing but his lips and tongue to entrap, and tease her. He tasted her mouth, running his tongue along her teeth, and licking her upper palate before tangling with her tongue. He teased, retreating when Clarisse chased his tongue, drawing her tongue into his mouth. Rupert nipped at Clarisse’s full bottom lip, drawing it into his mouth to suck on it before releasing it. He repeated his actions, spurred on by Clarisse’s moans until finally ending the kiss, Rupert pulled away pleased at Clarisse’s flushed look and swollen lips. 

Clarisse swayed slightly in her seat, her eyes closed. Her sex was wet and throbbing and she could feel her nipples hard against the silk of her bra. She took a deep breath. Before she could form a reply of any kind a soft knock was heard at the door of the sitting room.  

“Come in,” said Rupert. Clarisse picked up her tea to sip it, surprised her hand wasn’t shaking. 

James entered the sitting room, stopping at the entrance. “Your Majesties, the packing is completed,” he said. 

“Thank you James,” replied His Majesty 

“You are welcome, sir,” he replied. “If there is nothing else?” 

“There is nothing else,” replied His Majesty. 

“Then if you will excuse me. I will see to the cars and baggage,” said James, bowing before leaving. 

The short exchange between James and Rupert gave Clarisse enough time to recover from the kisses she had received. She sat her teacup down. A week ago she hadn’t been sure she wanted to come to the Lodge. Now a week later she wasn’t sure she wanted to leave. Sighing deeply she picked up her cup. 

“Something wrong, mi reina _?_ ” asked Joseph. 

“What is it, cherí?” asked Rupert. 

Clarisse put her cup down and looked at both men, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I find myself not wanting to leave. This week has been wonderful, and I am afraid what we have experienced here won’t be repeated.” 

Joseph and Rupert both took a hand in theirs. “Have faith. We will figure out a way for all of us or just you and Joseph to be together,” said Rupert, cupping her cheek in his hand. 

“I have a few ideas that might help,” said Joseph. “I didn’t want to mention them but perhaps now is the time.” 

“What ideas?” asked Rupert. 

Joseph released Clarisse’s hand. “The family wing contains six suites. Three of which are in use, one is the nursery and the other two are used for visiting Heads of States and other guests of the Palace. What I propose is that the visiting Heads of State and guests be housed in the West Wing, which would make Security’s job easier,” began Joseph. 

“And what of the other two suites?” asked Clarisse. “Do they remain empty?” 

“One of the two suites would be remodelled for the Head of Security. As protocol demands, the Head of Security is to secure the safety of the Royal Family should any attack on the Palace happen. Right now, my suite, located near the Hub allows me quick access to the Hub but not to the Royal Family. In light of this, I propose that the Head of Security suite be moved to the Royal Wing,” said Joseph. 

“Most of the visiting Heads of States are old friends. How do we explain this change to them?” asked Rupert. 

“We don’t. No one needs to know of the change. Security wise it is considered classified and only those with the proper clearances are to know about it. As it is classified only the most trusted members of Staff will have access to the family wing, this includes housekeeping. Mrs. Cowt and I have discussed the need to limit access to the Royal Family, and it was actually her idea about allowing only the most trusted of Staff entrance to the family wing,’ explained Joseph. 

“As for Heads of State and guests, they are staying at the Palace, which in itself is an honour. I doubt any will grouse about exactly where they will be staying. And if they do, we simply state that due to the dangers present in the world today the security of the Royal Family takes precedence,” said Joseph. 

Rupert looked at Joseph. Joseph could tell he was thinking of all the pros and cons of the proposal. As was Clarisse. He waited for their answer. 

“It would work,” said Clarisse. “Joseph is correct. Most of our guests care little for what suite they are staying in. Beatrix jokingly said as long as she was at the Palace she even would sleep in a cupboard. Most come to visit us in order to relax. And if I am not mistaken Elizabeth and Buckingham Palace have implemented a similar policy concerning the family apartments, am I correct Joseph?” 

“Yes,” answered Joseph. 

Rupert rubbed his ear, a habit he had when deep in thought. After a few minutes he said, “Alright, I agree. We implement the changes immediately. We will need a list of who is authorized and the like. I am sure Joe you have already determined the how’s of the new security and who will be in charge.” 

“Yes, I have.” 

“Good, good,” said Rupert. “I just have one question though?” 

Joseph raised his eyebrow. 

“Which suite were you planning on being yours?” Rupert asked. 

“The one right next to the Royal Suite,” replied Joseph. 

“That would be the one with the hidden connecting door?” Clarisse asked, smiling. Rupert grinned at her observation. 

“It would,” replied Joseph, unable to quell his grin.  

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

Their arrival back at the Palace was met with little fanfare. As it was Saturday afternoon, the Palace was quiet, most of the daily workers would not be back until Monday. Joe headed to the his suite then the Hub while Their Majesties retired to their suite to freshen up before all three met for dinner. 

Joe was running late. He had become involved in reports and lost track of time. Luckily he had already freshened up prior to the going to the Hub so all he had to do was arrive at the family dining room. As he walked quickly down the hall he was surprised to see Rupert walk up next to him. “Rup…Your Majesty..” began Joseph. 

“Trade call,” Rupert said. Joseph nodded in understanding. 

“Her Majesty?” 

“Already seated most likely,” said Rupert. Both men increased their speed, until they were running down the hall. They came to a sliding stop outside the family dining room, Rupert grabbed the column to stop his slide as Joseph slid to a turning stop. Ivan, the footman lips twitched before his expression cleared. Rupert held up his hand to Ivan to wait to open the doors. Finally catching his breath, Rupert looked over at Joseph. At Joseph’s nod, Rupert signalled for the doors to open, and the two men walked sedately into the dining room. 

As they expected Clarisse was already seated. 

“So glad you could join me,” she said, neither man could tell if she was teasing or if she was truly angry. 

“Trade call took longer than expected,” said Rupert as an apology. 

“Too many reports and I lost track of time,” said Joseph. 

“Apologies accepted,” smiled Clarisse. 

Both men smiled and soon the three were bantering while enjoying their meal. 

“I think Mrs. Cowt missed us,” said Clarisse, as she ate her dessert. It was one of her favourites, Chocolate Gateau. 

“I think you are correct, my dear,” replied Rupert, as he ate his strawberry cake. “If the dinner was anything to go by I am sure Staff did miss us.” 

“I have to agree,” said Joseph as he enjoyed his dessert soufflé. The whole dinner was one favourite after another, and Joseph was pleasantly stuffed. 

After Clarisse gave their congratulations and thanks to Staff, the three of them retired to the family room. Sitting down in the centre of the sofa Clarisse accepted a brandy from Rupert. She waited for Rupert to sit down before leaning back against him. She took her shoes off. When Joseph sat down at the other end of the sofa she placed her feet in his lap. She sighed in bliss when he began to massage them. 

“Don’t bother Carlos. I’ll simply announce myself,” a voice was heard outside the family room. Clarisse immediately pulled her feet out of Joseph’s lap, sat up and slipped her shoes back on. 

Joseph moved to stand but at Rupert’s look he remained seated. The door to the family room opened and in walked the one person two of the three present had hoped not to see for a few weeks. 

“Hello Maman. Hello Papa,” greeted Philippe.

 


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 36**

 

Philippe opened the door to the gym. Two weeks at home had taken a toll on him. He had gained eight pounds, and needed to lose it before he returned to his command. Walking into the gym he tossed his towel onto one of the treadmills before stepping up onto it and beginning a cycle. As he jogged he noticed the numerous members of security going into the area that was reserved for martial arts workouts. He wondered if they were attending a mandatory training class. One of the younger guards walked by and Philippe stopped him. 

“Excuse me,” said Philippe. 

“Yes, Your Highness,” André answered. 

“What’s going on?” Philippe asked, pointing a hand toward the doors that separated the workout equipment from martial arts area. 

“The Boss and His Majesty are sparring,” André answered. “They’ve been going at it for about thirty minutes.” 

“Joe and my father?” asked Philippe. 

“Yes sir. They rarely spar but when they do it is great to watch. They don’t hold back and the last time the King nailed the Boss with a…” André suddenly remembered who he was talking to. “I apologize Your Highness,” he said. 

Philippe waved his apology away. “Don’t worry about it. Can anyone watch?” asked Philippe. 

“Yes sir,” said André, turning to look longingly at the door. He was clearly impatient to get in to see the match. 

Philippe stepped off the treadmill, grabbed his towel and said, “Then let’s go watch.” 

André smiled and waited for His Highness to lead the way into the room. Once inside André motioned for them to move to the far side of the mat. The men already present went to stand when they saw the prince but Philippe signalled for them to remain seated. André found space next to Shades toward the back, and indicated His Highness to sit. Shades face registered surprise when he saw who sat down next to him. 

“What have I missed?” asked Philippe, indicating the two men kneeling on opposite ends of the mat. 

“Not much, Your Highness,” replied Shades. “They started with the staffs, then the swords and now they are going to fight hand to hand.” 

“Hmm.. “ said Philippe as he watched his father, barefoot and shirtless rise from his knees and move to stand in the centre of the mat. Joe was barefoot also but he wore a t-shirt. He watched as the two men carried on muted conversation in the centre of the mat before Joe pulled his t-shirt off, and tossed it to the edge of the mat.

  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“Joe, take off the shirt,” said Rupert. 

“If I take it off my brand will be visible,” said Joe. 

“I don’t care. If you don’t, your shirt gives me an unfair advantage, which I refuse to allow. Philippe is not here to see it, so the point is moot. Now take off the dammed shirt. I plan on beating your ass, mi amigo,” he said with a smirk, “and I don’t want anything to interfere with my pasting of you.” 

“Who says it will be me getting a beating, mi rey. If I remember correctly, the last time it was you who got beat down,” replied Joe as he pulled the t-shirt off and tossed it over to the edge of the mat. 

Rupert took a beginning stance, his legs apart and his hands raised. “You have a selective memory, viejo. Now stop talking, and lets fight,” Rupert said, smiling. 

Joseph took a similar stance and replied, “If I am an old man, than you are ancien. _”_

Rupert chuckled, and threw the first punch. Soon the two men were locked in heated hand to hand combat. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Philippe watched the security members watch his father and Joe as they sparred. There was a definite split in the room between the members of the security team. Some cheered for his father while others cheered for Joe. The chant of _'_ Rupert, Rupert, Rupert’ was started, and soon the majority of those who sat to the left of Philippe were cheering his father on as he landed a particularly hard kick to Joe’s side. Joe blocked it, and returned with a kick punch combination that forced his father back. Joe swept his father’s legs from underneath him, and those who sat near Philippe went wild with their own chant of ‘Joe, Joe, Joe _’_. 

His father didn’t remain down for long. Regaining his feet he forced Joe backwards until the two men were close to the edge of the mat. Philippe could hear their harsh breathing, and one particular hard punch to Joe’s chest forced him back into their group. Those sitting in front of him caught Joe, steadying him before all but tossing him back onto the mat. 

His father didn’t wait for Joe to regain his balance. He began of series of kick punch combinations that had Joe on the defensive. Rupert threw an upper body kick that Joseph blocked. The two men delivered a series of hard punches and kicks to each other before stopping. Moving back they bowed in respect to each other. The sparring was over and their audience erupted in cheers. 

Philippe watched as the men accepted the congratulations from the members of security. Philippe hadn’t realized how good his father was when it came to hand to hand combat. Although he shouldn’t be surprised since he knew his father had served in the Legion for a few years. But the skill with which he fought today was more than just initial hand to hand combat training. His father was an expert, which surprised him. He didn’t think he ever remembered his father practicing his martial arts, at least not when he was growing up. 

Philippe thought he knew his father fairly well, but today’s demonstration of his skill in hand to hand combat showed that he didn’t know his father as well as he thought. Philippe wondered what else about his father he didn’t know. 

Philippe walked over to congratulate his father and Joe on their skill with sparring. As he moved closer to Joe he noticed his left shoulder. Philippe stopped in shock. Joe was wearing the brand. The brand that marked him as _regina patronus quod paramour_. Philippe simply stared.

“Mon Dieu,” Philippe whispered. 

Joe heard the soft exclamation and turned. His gaze locked onto Philippe’s and he waited for the explosion. Philippe stared at the older man as if he was seeing him for the first time. Philippe could no longer hear Security speaking. All he could hear was the blood rushing through his ears. 

He stared at his father then at Joe. Philippe could feel his body begin to shake. He could feel his hands clenching into fists, and felt the overwhelming urge to hit someone. He took a shaky breath, his gaze locked on Joseph. He took a step forward then stopped. He turned, pushed his way through the throng of Security that surrounded his father and Joe, moving toward the door. Pulling open the door Philippe escaped out of the gymnasium and down the hall. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Claude looked up when he heard someone enter the offices. A smile graced his features when he saw who the visitor was. “Your Highness,” said Claude, extending his hand in greeting. Philippe took Claude’s hand in his, shaking the other man’s hand. 

Claude noted Prince Philippe’s tense expression and asked. “Is there something I can do for you Your Highness?” 

“Is your father around?” asked Philippe. 

“Yes, he is,” answered Claude. “He is in the Library. I’ll escort you…” 

Philippe interrupted Claude. “I know where it is,” he said. “Thank you Claude.” Philippe didn’t wait for Claude to answer. He simply turned on his heel, walked out of the offices, and headed down the vault corridor to the Library.

The door to the Library was open and Philippe stopped in the doorway. He watched as Micah hung what he was sure a brand new oil painting of Joseph on the wall. 

“My mother must be very satisfied,” Philippe said, startling Micah.

Micah glanced over to where His Highness stood in the doorway. “Your Highness,” he greeted, as he finished straightening the portrait. 

Philippe walked further into the library, stopping before the painting of Joseph. 

“I assume you were present when my mother took this bâtard espagnol as _regina patronus quod paramour_?” asked Philippe. 

Micah ignored the insult to Joseph. “Yes, I was present.” 

“And at the Cathedral when he swore the oath?” asked Philippe. 

“Yes.” 

“Were you also present when she took him to her bed?” Philippe asked. 

“Your Highness, I would suggest…,” warned Micah. 

“You would suggest what Curator?” asked Philippe, the anger he experienced earlier fuelling his words. “That I moderate my speech? Not insult this Spanish bastard?” said Philippe, gesturing to the painting of Joseph. 

“Or maybe you would suggest I not insult my mother? Is that it? Are you offended that I am insulting Her Majesty, the Queen? I haven’t insulted her,” said Philippe. 

“In order for it to be an insult I would have to be lying. And we both know I am not lying. Elle est baisée par ce bâtard espagnol,” explained Philippe. Seeing the anger on Micah’s face, Philippe continued. “Yes, Curator. We both know she is fucking him. Hell, she is probably spreading her legs for not only him but half the Security staff,” Philippe laughed humourlessly. “After all, I am sure it is not the first time she invited a man other than my father to her bed. All those diplomats…” 

“That is enough,” growled Joseph from the doorway. He had arrived quietly right after Philippe began questioning Micah. Micah had seen him arrive but Philippe had not. Micah had tried to warn Philippe but he was too angry to listen, instead he interrupted him. 

Philippe whirled at the sound of Joseph’s voice. 

“Ah, the bastard himself,” said Philippe. “Are you here to defend my mother’s honour?” he sneered. “Oh wait, my mother has no honour. She is nothing more than a royal…” 

“Don’t say it,” Joseph warned. 

Philippe’s eyes narrowed at the warning from Joseph. He ignored it and spat out,”…une pute royal _.”_

Joseph moved fast. One moment Philippe was standing, and the next he was thrown up against the bookcase, Joseph’s arm across his throat. 

“Escuche bien, Su Alteza. I am only going to say this once. You may have a problem with me and my position within the Royal Household but if you ever insult Her Majesty, the Queen, your mother again… te voy a matar _,_ ” growled Joseph. 

Philippe struggled against Joseph. Joseph released Philippe just enough to allow him some movement. Joe knew that at the first sign of freedom Philippe would attack. 

Joseph waited. 

He prayed that Philippe would take the opportunity presented to him to attack. Because once he did, Joe would defend himself, and if during his defence His Highness was injured…well, that wasn’t Joe’s concern. 

Philippe felt Joe’s hold loosen and he took the opportunity to attack. He drove his fist into the older man’s stomach causing Joe to grunt in pain. Philippe knew he had to incapacitate Joe quickly. If he didn’t, he stood no chance against the older man. Bringing his fists down quickly he hit Joe on the trapezius muscle. Philippe followed this hit with a knee to the chest, forcing the air out of Joe’s lungs. 

Joe staggered under the force of the attack and for a brief moment he could thought he was going to lose consciousness. But he didn’t. He dragged a couple of deep breaths into his body before standing. 

Philippe had surprised him.

He hadn’t expected the younger man to use blows designed to render him unconscious, but he had. And even though they failed, Joe decided not to underestimate the younger Renaldi. Joe waved off Micah’s concern, before heading out of the library in search of His Highness. 

It was time to teach the prince some manners. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Philippe exited the vaults. He had no fixed destination. His anger forced him to simply move and it surprised him when he found himself standing in the Rose Garden. Knowing the garden was often unoccupied at this time of day Philippe walked toward the Hedge Maze, trying to bring his anger under control. 

By the time he reached the fountain in the centre of the maze most of his anger was spent or so he thought. But upon seeing his mother sitting on one of the benches enjoying the afternoon sun his anger returned and he lashed out. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Joseph radioed the Hub as he walked to His Majesty’s office. He wanted to know Prince Philippe’s location. The report that he was in the maze was met with a terse ‘understood’ but the next message had him tearing through the door to His Majesty’s office. 

“He’s in the maze with Clarisse,” said Joseph, running out the patio doors and across the grass. 

He knew without looking that Rupert was right on his heels. Joseph’s radio began to screech. Anton was calling a Code Red, involving Her Majesty and requesting help. Joe acknowledged, ordered all active members to Anton’s location while racing through the maze. 

When he arrived with Rupert and five members of Security he took in everything with a quick glance. Philippe was being restrained, none to gently by Shades and Carlos. Anton was holding a handkerchief to his lip and nose trying to staunch the blood that flowed. And Clarisse was sitting on the stone bench. When she raised her face his hissed in shock. Her face was white, her lips were pressed together and there were tears in her eyes. 

Joseph watched as Rupert went immediately to Clarisse, enfolding her in his arms. He didn’t hear their soft conversation. Instead, he turned his attention to the prince. 

Joseph moved so quickly that Clarisse’s warning cry was lost in the ensuing action. The punches he landed to Philippe were damaging, and it took all five security members to pull him off the young Renaldi. By the time they did, Philippe was bleeding. 

Joseph struggled against the hands holding him, cursing fluently. Finally they wrestled him to the ground and managed to handcuff him, but not before he bloodied two lips and broke one nose. 

They pulled him to his feet, ignoring the glares he sent them. 

He looked over at Their Majesties and noted Rupert’s stance. At a nod from Clarisse, Rupert made a move toward Philippe but Clarisse grabbed his arm, shaking her head. Joseph watched Rupert argue but whatever Clarisse was saying soon had Rupert taking her back into his arms. The murderous look he sent his son was in direct contrast to the tender way he held his wife. 

After a few minutes Clarisse moved out of Rupert’s arms. She moved over to him, noting his split lip. 

“Are you alright?” she asked. 

“Yes,” answered Joseph. 

“More concerned over your paramour than your son, Mother?” Philippe asked snidely, wiping the blood from his lip. 

Before Clarisse could form a reply Rupert was hauling their son up from his seat, dragging him over to Clarisse. 

“Apologize,” his father ordered. 

Philippe glared at his father. Like hell he would apologize. 

“Apologize,” his father ordered again, twisting his arm harder. 

Philippe refused. 

“Rupert,” Clarisse said softly. 

At the soft sound of his name Rupert looked at Clarisse. She didn’t say anything more, and Rupert released Philippe before walking away. 

Clarisse looked at her angry son. She knew he would not listen to either her or his father. His anger was too great. Sighing softly Clarisse said, “Leave Philippe.” 

Philippe stared at his mother. She wasn’t serious. Her next words shocked him. 

“Shades, Carlos. Please escort His Highness to his rooms, assist him in packing and escort him from the Palace. He is no longer welcomed,” Her Majesty ordered. 

Clarisse moved to leave but Joseph’s voice stopped her. 

“For how long?” Joseph asked. 

Turning to look at Joseph Clarisse tilted her head to the side then replied. “Until the time comes where he accepts the one who serves.” 

Joseph bowed his head in acceptance. 

Philippe dropped to his knees. “Maman?” he said. 

Clarisse looked at her youngest son, then turned on her heel and walked away. Anton and Gil following behind. 

Philippe watched as his mother walked away. He turned to look at Joseph. “Joseph?” he asked, his voice betraying his disbelief. 

Joseph looked at the younger man. He could see how devastated he was at his mother’s orders. “I’m sorry,” Joseph said. 

Joe nodded to Shades and Carlos and the two men pulled the young prince to his feet, before escorting him back to the Palace. Joseph watched His Highness walk back to the Palace, his dejection evident in his posture. Joseph waited for Miguel to release him from his handcuffs. Once released Joseph, headed in the direction His Majesty had gone. 

“She sent him away,” said Joseph, when he caught up to Rupert. 

Rupert nodded, then asked. “For how long?” 

“Until he accepts my service,” said Joseph. 

“Mon Dieu,” whispered Rupert.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 37**

 

**_1991 June 16_ ** _  
_

_It has been six months since the work on the remodelling and upgrade of security for the family wing had begun and today it is finally finished.  
_

_Clarisse, Rupert and I agree the next time one of Rupert’s many relations offers to help with a remodelling at the Palace they will receive a polite refusal. Although, to be honest it wasn’t the remodelling that took the longest it was the implementation of the new security measures for the Royal Couple that caused the delays. But the new entrance to the vaults from Their Majesties’ suite will ensure their safety if there is a security breach at the Palace.  
_

_Access between my suite and Their Majesties’ suite is also complete. The door is not even concealed; instead it blends in perfectly with the wall, and wainscoting already present. It can be secured from either side by a simple locking deadbolt if either party wishes privacy. Rupert scoffed at the idea of a lock between the rooms, but I demanded it for Clarisse’s sake. I will not have her pressured into continuing my paramour services. I am prepared to fulfil my service to her at any time she requests, but only at Her request.  
_

_It has also been six months since Philippe was last welcome at the Palace. Pierre has been in contact with his brother. According to him he is slowly coming to grips with not only my position but his position within the family. Pierre and I have spoken at length about Philippe, his daughter Amelia and Their Majesties. It is thanks to Pierre, and his counsel that I have not resigned my service.  
_

_But there are times, especially when Clarisse thinks she is alone, I see how difficult the estrangement between she, and her son is for her. The sadness I see in her eyes cuts me to the bone.  
_

_I am the cause of that sadness.  
_

_I know most would say it is Philippe who is the cause of her pain, but if I hadn’t accepted the position offered me, or fulfilled my service to her, there would be no estrangement.  
_

_I know if I were to resign from my service it would mean my death, but if my death gave mi reina, mi alma her son back then I would gladly die.  
_

**_1991 September 23_ ** _  
_

_Pierre has come for a lengthy visit. He requested a leave of absence, which was granted and now he is to be at home until after the New Year.  
_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Pierre waited for Joseph to meet him at the stables. The horses were saddled and Tomas had secured the items inside Pierre’s saddlebags. Tomas said nothing about the items that he placed inside the saddlebags. He had been in the employ of the Royal Family far too long for anything to surprise him. When Joseph finally joined Pierre dressed in his customary black riding clothes Tomas wished both men a good day before leaving. 

“Your Highness,” greeted Joseph. 

Pierre raised his eyebrow in a fair imitation of his father. 

Joseph corrected himself. “Pierre.” 

Pierre smiled and said, “Joseph.” 

“Shall we?” said Pierre, indicating the horses. 

Joseph nodded, and swung himself up into the saddle. He adjusted his stirrups and waited. Pierre mounted with ease, adjusted his stirrups, and with a nod to the other man urged his mount into a walk. Once clear of the stables, both men urged their mounts into a trot then allowed them their heads. 

The two men rode for about an hour before Pierre came to a stop at a familiar looking grove. Pierre dismounted, secured his horse and removed the saddlebag before walking over to one of the large oaks and sitting down. After securing his mount Joseph walked over to where Pierre sat. Sitting down, Joseph waited for Pierre to speak. 

“How have you been Joseph?” asked Pierre. 

“Fine, but Pierre you didn’t have me ride all the way out here to ask me how I am,” said Joseph. “Let’s cut to the chase and you tell me why you asked me out here?” 

“You are correct, mi Señor,” replied Pierre. Pierre reached into the saddlebag, removing a flask, a holstered Glock 17 pistol and magazine and what looked to be a letter. Pierre removed the pistol from its holster, loaded the magazine. He placed the gun next to him. 

“How is my mother?” Pierre asked, opening the flask. He didn’t take a drink; he passed it to Joseph and waited. Joseph took the flask, raised it to his lips, and stopped. He lowered the flask without taking a sip, replaced the cap and laid it next to him. 

“Physically she is fine. Emotionally, she is…” Joseph trailed off. 

Pierre nodded in understanding. His mother still felt the separation of her youngest son keenly. It was this very reason that Pierre had asked Joseph to join him this morning. 

“Mi señor duque Ramirez,” began Pierre. 

Joseph’s eyes widened at this formal address. As _regina patronus quod paramour_ Joseph’s title was now that of Duke of Pyrus, José Joseph Alejandro Calvera Ramirez, a title often associated with the ruling King or his sons but in reality the title was held only by _regina patronus quod paramour_. Chevelair II decreed it so when he formalised the position. If no one was appointed to serve, the title was held in guardianship by the Royal Family until one who served was appointed. 

“Sí, Su Alteza?” 

“You have spoken of your willingness to resign your position to the bloodline in order to heal the breach between my mother and her son. Is this correct?” asked Pierre. 

“Yes,” said Joseph. 

“And you are aware of the consequences that result from your resignation, correct?” 

“Yes.” 

“And knowing this you would still take this course of action?” 

“Yes,” answered Joseph. Joseph picked up the pistol that sat next to Pierre. He looked down at it then at Pierre, before placing it back on the ground. “If my death would mean Philippe would return to take his rightful place as heir, and reconcile with his parents I would gladly give my life for such a result.” 

“Why?” another voice asked from the trees. 

Joseph’s head turned quickly, he was on his feet immediately, the shock on his face evident for a split second before his expression returned to normal. 

“Because Su Alteza, the bloodline takes precedence over everything. And She is the foundation of the bloodline. I swore my life, my blood and my allegiance to Her. I will do whatever is necessary to protect Her and the Crown,” said Joseph. 

“So your choice is because of your oath?” asked Philippe, walking out from behind the trees. He had been waiting quietly for his brother and Joseph to arrive. He needed to know, and see for himself how serious Joseph was about his service. 

“No, it is not just because of my oath,” answered Joseph. 

He took a deep breath. 

“I love your parents. Both of them, but I love your mother more than my own life. She is mi alma, mi vida _,_ and I would do anything within my power to assure her happiness. While I know she would be saddened at my death, she and your father would eventually recover. But to lose her child…you, Philippe because you cannot handle my position, that is something she would never recover from. Before I allow that to happen, before I allow her to experience the pain of never again speaking to or seeing you, I will end my service.” 

“So if I told you the only way I would return was if you took your own life, killed yourself, you would do so?” asked Philippe. 

“Yes,” answered Joseph. 

“Then those are my terms,” said Philippe. 

“Philippe! NO!” shouted Pierre. “You can’t do this.” 

Philippe turned to his older brother. “Those are my terms, Pierre,” he said. “If I am to return then Joseph ends his service. If he does not, then I abdicate in favour of my daughter, and I leave, never to return.” 

“Philippe, you bâtard!” growled Pierre, grabbing his brother by the shirt front. 

Joseph grabbed Pierre’s hand. “Pierre,’ said Joseph, his voice soft. Pierre looked at the older man. 

“Joseph..,” began Pierre. 

“It’s alright. If those are his terms then I agree to them,” said Joseph. 

“Those are my terms,” said Philippe. 

“Agreed,” said Joseph. “Your mother is never to know about this meeting,” Joseph added quietly. 

“But..” began Pierre. 

“She is never to know!” said Joseph. “You may tell your father, he will understand. He won’t be happy but he will understand. But you will never mention this meeting or our terms to mi reina,” said Joseph, looking directly at Philippe. 

Philippe nodded his head once in agreement. 

“It has been my honour and pleasure to watch both of you grow into the fine men you are today,” said Joseph, looking at both Pierre and Philippe. 

Taking Pierre’s hand in his Joseph said, “Pierre, I am proud of you. You would have made a fine King, but you make an even better Pastor. Never forget how proud I am of you. I hope one day you will be appointed Arch-Bishop of Genovia. That would make both your parents extremely proud. My one regret is that I will not be here to witness that fine day. Vaya con Dios, mi príncipe,” said Joseph, hugging the younger man before kissing him on both cheeks. 

Turning to Philippe, Joseph took his hand in his and said, “Su Alteza, while we have not agreed on many things, I **am** proud of you. You will make a very good King. Listen to your father and learn from him. He has much to teach you. Today, you have illustrated to me your understanding of how difficult being King will be. Your decisions may be unpopular, but they will always reflect first, and foremost the importance of Genovia, and the Crown. Never forget how proud I am of you. It has been my honour to watch you grow into the man you are today.” _  
_

Joseph knelt in front of Philippe. He kissed his hand before raising it to his forehead in a sign utmost respect. “Dios te bendiga y te guarde, su majesta _d,”_ said Joseph before rising to his feet. 

Philippe and Pierre watched as Joseph walked over to pick up the pistol where it lay on the ground. 

The sound of the slide was loud in the relative quiet of the woods. 

Joseph raised the gun to his temple and squeezed the trigger.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The service had been beautiful. The eulogy given by his Royal Highness, Prince Philippe was considered to be the most memorable part of the service. The honour guard performed their duties with military precision, and the wreath laid at the gravesite was filled with the Queen Clarisse rose. 

At exactly 11:00 am the firing of the cannon signalled the beginning of two minutes of silence. After the end of the silence, His Majesty King Rupert accepted the salute by the Royal Horse and Rifle Guards as they paraded by the memorial. After the official parade ended, when most spectators in other countries would begin to disperse the crowds in Genovia seemed to increase. The sound of a bagpipes, drums and carnyces filled the air. The crowds seemed to surge forward as everyone wanted to see the men and women who would soon appear. 

First to arrive were the Royal banners. They fluttered in the breeze and were carried by four members of the Rifle Guards dressed in ancient Gaul costume. After the banners came the pipers, the horns and the drummers dressed the same. But it was the arrival of the security force led by the Royal Head of Security that caused the most excitement. 

Every member of Security was dressed in ancient dress. They wore arm bands, and neck torques in heavy beaten gold. Those with pierced ears wore heavy gold hoops in their ears. Those with hair wore their hair either plaited or dressed in a particular manner. Those without hair wore gold circlets on their heads. Every member wore bracae, with leather garters that crisscrossed their boots to their knees. The men were bare-chested with a cloak fastened across their shoulder and the women wore tunics with cloaks. Each carried a spear, a shield, a sword and daggers sheathed in their boots. 

The procession stopped directly in front of the reviewing stand and turned as one. With split second precision they all knelt. 

With one voice, they swore an oath of fealty to the Genovian crown, and the Renaldi family. 

The cheers from the crowds almost drowned out the end of the oath. 

Rising to their feet, Security waited as the Royal Family entered their carriages. Four members of Security each took a place behind a member of the Royal Family. Signalling their readiness, the pipers, drummers and horns began to play, and as one the whole group headed back to the Palace. Many members of Security were bombarded with phone numbers, and flowers as they flanked the Royal Carriages. 

“I think our Head of Security enjoys this yearly tradition too much,” remarked Rupert, looking as his wife. “All these women throwing phone numbers his way,” teased Rupert. 

“I think you might be correct,” replied Clarisse as she glanced back at Joseph. 

“Yes, I enjoy it. But I pass the phone numbers on,” said Joseph. “I don’t need them. Not now,” he added in a husky undertone. 

Rupert laughed as Clarisse blushed. 

“Shades?” 

“Yes sir,” Shades answered Rupert. 

“Are you ready for your first official state trip?” asked Rupert. 

“Yes sir, I am,” answered Shades. Joseph was allowing Shades to head the security team accompanying His Majesty on his trip to Italy. If all went well, and Rupert was satisfied with Shades’ performance, Shades would slowly begin to take over as head for His Majesty’s security team. This would leave Joseph as Her Majesty’s personal bodyguard, something Rupert wanted to happen as soon as possible. 

As the carriages pulled into the Palace and stopped, Joseph and Shades both alighted before Their Majesties. Holding his hand out, Joseph helped Clarisse, then Rupert down from the carriage while Shades stood at attention. As soon as all the members of the Royal Family were standing at the Palace steps, and the carriages were removed Security came to attention. 

Her Majesty stepped forward. “I want to thank all of you for your support and protection. I also want to thank each of you for your vow to the Crown but most of all to the Renaldi family. The Renaldi family pledges our fidelity and support to you, Iam quod insquequo terminus of vicis _.”_

The loud cry of Vive le Roi et la Reine _!_ ’ and _¡_ Viva el Rey y la Reina _!_ resounded from the security force. 

Joseph let his security force cheer for a bit before he issued the command of Atención!. 

Security fell silent, and immediately came to attention. Joseph then turned to Their Majesties and saluted, his actions mimicked by the security members With the salute returned Joseph did an about face, and dismissed his team. The men and women of Security quickly entered the Palace, and proceeded down to the vaults to return their dress, jewellery and weapons. 

No one wanted to incur the wrath of Micah, the Royal Curator for failure to return even one item. While Security agreed their boss was intimidating, everyone agreed Micah, with all his knowledge of ancient torture methods was right scary.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

**_1991 November 18_ ** _  
_

_Philippe asked me to join him in a nightcap which I accepted. He broached the subject once again about the incident in September. Again I told him not to worry about it, that I understood why he did what he did.  
_

_He fails to understand that my respect for him increased ten-fold after that incident. Few men would have the boldness to not only demand my death but prepare an elaborate plan to facilitate my death. And even though the gun was not loaded, neither Pierre or I knew that, it mattered little in the scheme of things._

 

**_1992 June 14_ ** _  
_

_That dammed Italian is back!  
_

_Constantine Notte is back in Genovia!  
_

_Clarisse has invited the hijo de soltera to stay at the Palace. She has given him one of the rooms in the West Wing, and has invited him dine with she and Rupert tonight.  
_

_To say mi Rey is not happy is an understatement. I offered to introduce the Italian personally to the armoury in the vaults but Rupert declined. He said She would be upset and unfortunately, both of us do our best to keep her from becoming upset.  
_

_I complained to Rupert about the unfairness of it all. A man should be allowed to hang, eviscerate or simply murder any rivals for his lady love. Rupert agrees completely.  
_

_Too bad Clarisse views such behaviour as unacceptable._

 


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 38**

 

Joe collapsed on the small cot, fully clothed, boots on, exhausted. The sound of another body collapsing on the cot across from him never penetrated the blessed oblivion that overtook him. Later Joe woke to the insistent calling of his name. 

“Joe… Joe…wake up,” said Shades, shaking the exhausted man awake. 

“Huh…what?” said Joe, his voice radiating his exhaustion. 

“The winds changed,” said Shades, knowing instinctively the other man would understand the meaning of the simple statement. 

“Changed?” 

“Yea, it’s blowing seaward,” said Shades. 

“Gracias a dios!” breathed Joe. Looking around the small room Joe asked, “Where is His Majesty?” 

“Outside with Conrad, Miguel and General Richârd,” explained Shades. At his boss’s darkening expression Shades quickly added,” His Majesty ordered us to let you sleep for another hour. You’ve barely slept the last thirty-six.” 

“Okay..okay…,” said Joe scrubbing his face with his hands before standing. He looked around, his mental processes were slow at the moment. 

“Give me five minutes,” he said as he entered the small bathroom, and turned on the water. Splashing cold water on his face, he grabbed a toothbrush, quickly brushing his teeth, managing to get the worst of the ash taste out of his mouth before grabbing a towel and drying off. He knew from his reflection his exhaustion showed on his face, but there was little he could do about it. 

Tossing the towel onto the bed, Joe grabbed his jacket. Exiting the small building Joe joined the His Majesty and the rest of the men already waiting. After a quick briefing, he, His Majesty and their team were once again en-route to the fire. But this time, luck and the wind were with them.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“I’m not moving,” Rupert said, exhausted. 

The winds had shifted sixteen hours ago. They had finally gained a semblance of control over the fire. It would be another sixteen hours before they had complete control, but the winds were expected to remain east to west at three kilometres. 

With the winds almost calm, and the majority of the fire out, the relief crews would be able to easily handle the rest. Even with the size of the forest fire very little property damage had occurred. The fire had been contained in the Reserve and the surrounding unpopulated mountain ravines. Only a few hunter’s cabins had been destroyed. The more populated valleys had been spared thanks to the wind shift, and the fire breaks that had been put into place. 

Rupert knew from the reports that many of the valleys would have been devastated by the fire. He knew nothing he, the fire commission, the army or the volunteers did would have saved the towns or villages. He was just thankful that the winds had shifted allowing them the chance to gain the upper hand against the inferno. He was also thankful that they had no fatalities. There were a few injuries both serious and non-serious but thank heaven no deaths! 

“I’m not moving,” Rupert said again, leaning against the rock. He liked this rock. It was a nice rock. A bit rocky but comfortable. He closed his eyes. 

“How will you shower if you don’t move?” asked Joseph. Joseph was leaning against a rock similar to, but not as nice as Rupert’s rock. 

“They can bring the shower to me. I am King, after all,” Rupert said. 

Joe grunted in response. 

“Your Majesty, the truck is here,” said Shades. Rupert opened one eye to peer up at the man standing above him. Rupert sighed, holding his hand out. Shades grasped His Majesty’s hand and pulled him up. 

“Thanks Shades,” he said, as he walked over to Joseph. 

“Come on,” said Rupert holding his hand out to Joseph, “time to go.” 

Joe looked up at Rupert. “Thought you weren’t moving,” he said as he took Rupert’s hand, grunting as he was pulled to his feet. 

“Wasn’t going to but Shades made me,” replied Rupert. 

“He’s awfully bossy for being second-in-command,” said Joe. 

“My boss wouldn’t have it any other way,” replied Shades, smiling as he grabbed Joseph’s and His Majesty’s kits. 

Walking to the 5 ton transport truck that awaited them, Rupert and Joseph accepted the hands offered to them as they climbed up. Both men sat on the floor of the truck, refusing the offers of a seat on the bench. 

Folding his jacket into a pillow and leaning back against the bench Rupert closed his eyes. “Wake me when we get home,” he said to no one in particular before he slipped into an exhausted sleep. 

Shades watched his boss fight his exhaustion. He knew he would try to remain awake in order to guard His Majesty. Slipping a folded jacket behind him Shades said to the older man, “Sleep. He’s safe. I’ll wake you when we get home.” 

Joe looked at hard at Shades. Shades’ curt nod satisfied Joe, and he replied, “Kay,” before he too slipped into an exhausted sleep. 

Shades watched as many of the men also slipped into sleep. Crossing his arms Shades sat back. He would sleep when they arrived at the Palace.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

  ** _1994 April 24_**

_The inspection of the Reserve and the surrounding mountainous ravines went well today. Even with the severity of the fire in August ’92 the land has made a remarkable recovery. Most of the old growth trees, many of which suffered limited damage in the fire have recovered. And the new trees are growing rapidly.  
_

_According to the Forestry Commission most of the animals have recovered, including the ibex, chamois, roe deer and wild boar. The wolves who make their home in the Reserve are also recovering from the loss of their alphas. A new pair of alphas have been seen, and the female is pregnant.  
_

_The construction of the natural reservoirs is proceeding rapidly. Two of the three are done and they look as if they have always been part of the landscape. Their Majesties were adamant that their construction have as little environmental impact as possible and they have. Their addition will help to ease the water problem when it comes to fighting forest fires.  
_

_I just wish that the problems at the Palace were handled as easily.  
_

_Philippe is being his usual self. One would think that as the heir to the Throne he would take a more active interest in the day to day running of the country but he is not.  
_

_He handles his charities and events but does little to ease Rupert’s or Clarisse’s burdens. It is almost as if he prefers to remain Prince forever.  
_

_Does he not realize his parents are prepared to abdicate in favour of him. In fact, they are more than ready to hand over the Crown of Genovia to Philippe. They have served Genovia for almost thirty years. As Rupert has said, he is ready to follow instead of lead.  
_

_Sometimes I wonder how things would be if Pierre had never abdicated? I am sure he would already be Crowned and leading the country, allowing his parents to be doting grandparents instead of King and Queen. Is it wrong of me to wish he had never abdicated? Perhaps, but with Philippe acting as he is I cannot help but wonder how life would be if Pierre were king.  
_

_And speaking of grandparents, new pictures came today of Amelia. She and Helen were in Mexico on vacation over the Christmas holidays. And while the pictures of Amelia are perfection, the idea of the heir to the Genovian Crown without security terrifies me. Kidnappings happen often in Mexico, and in America. They happen daily all around the world.  
_

_Amelia being taken for ransom turns my blood cold.  
_

_I have tried to speak to Philippe about the need for security for his daughter, but he is adamant that no security is needed, since no one knows who she really is.  
_

_I’ve pointed out to him that it takes only one person to discover her identity, before her peaceful existence turns dangerous. Philippe’s answer was that **I** need to make sure that doesn’t happen.   
_

_He has set me an almost impossible task! He wants me to keep her secret, but ties my hands at the same time!  
_

_¡_ _Gilipollas_ _!_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Joseph couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. The nagging feeling that had been with him since they arrived at the trade meeting was getting stronger. Looking around, Joseph couldn’t see anything out of place but the feeling was growing stronger every minute. 

Joe continued to look around. Keying his microphone he had each of his men check in; each one gave the all clear. 

Rupert noticed the look on Joseph’s face and signed, ‘What is it?’ as the representative from Portugal began to speak. 

Joseph signalled he didn’t know but be prepared in answer. 

Constantine Notte noticed the silent communication between His Majesty and Joseph. Writing a quick note he passed it to His Majesty. 

‘Che cosa è _?_ ’ read Rupert. Rupert quickly wrote back. 

‘Non lo so, ma Giuseppe è preoccupato’ was the reply. 

Constantine nodded. He had come to know both men well, if Joseph was worried then something was wrong. 

The trade meeting continued. Finally, it was His Majesty’s turn to address the representatives. Walking to the podium Rupert didn’t balk when Joseph followed behind him, and stood to his left. As Rupert began his speech, Joseph examined the attendants. 

Joseph barely listened to the speech His Majesty was giving. His attention was on the room, and its occupants. Something instinctive made Joseph push His Majesty to the ground as a shot was fired. Chaos erupted as security rushed the stage to secure His Majesty and pursue the shooter. Representatives rushed from the room. Constantine ran to the stage reaching it at the same time Shades and a few of the security team did. He positioned himself between Rupert and the room, covering his back. 

It took a few seconds for Constantine to notice the blood on Rupert’s shirt. 

“Gesù,” he swore. “Sei feriti.” 

“No, Joseph is,” replied Rupert. Constantine looked down at the man lying in Rupert’s arms. Rupert had his jacket open, applying pressure to the wound to control the bleeding. 

“Mio dio,” Constantine whispered. 

Joseph had been shot in the chest. He could hear Joseph gasping, and was sure the bullet had penetrated his lung. Moving quickly, Constantine pulled his jacket off, bunched it up and placed it behind Joseph’s head. 

“Turn him on his side so he can breathe,” said Constantine, as he helped to move Joseph to his side. 

Shades tried to get His Majesty to leave as soon as he arrived, but one look at his face showed the futility of that idea. Instead, Shades ordered a ring of men around His Majesty, Joseph and Signor Notte while requesting an ambulance at the same time. 

The news that the shooter had been apprehended was soon conveyed, but none of the team let down their guard. There could always be another shooter. 

It had been less than three minutes from the time the shot had been fired to when the ambulance with the EMT team arrived, but to Rupert it felt like an eternity. Joseph was barely conscious and his breathing was laboured. The EMT team worked quickly, and efficiently to stabilize Joseph, then load him on a gurney. As the EMT’s moved to transport him to the hospital Rupert moved to join them. 

Shades stopped him. 

“Your Majesty, Joe will have my head if I let you go with him,” Shades said. 

“And I’ll have your head if you don’t,” growled Rupert. 

“At the moment Your Majesty, you scare me less than Joe does,” replied Shades. Shades didn’t wait for a reply. “Carlos, Miguel, Conrad, André escort His Majesty and _Signor_ Notte to the limo. Once there, you and the team head to the Palace.” 

“Hospital,” ordered Rupert. 

“With all due respect Your Majesty, you will go to hospital after you inform Her Majesty,” replied Shades, his voice taking on a hard edge similar to Joseph’s when he in full Head of Security mode. 

Rupert stared hard at Shades. Shades stared back. 

“Fine,” he said, allowing the men to escort he and Constantine out to the limo. 

“Carlos,” Shades called, he waited for the man to come over to him. 

“Yes sir,” answered Carlos. 

“No matter what His Majesty orders you don’t stop until you arrive at the Palace. Comprendre?” he said. 

“Yes sir.” 

“Once there, exchange the limo for Betty, and bring Their Majesties to the hospital. I want a full armed contingent with them,” ordered Shades. “I’ll be meeting them there after I secure this area.” 

“Yes sir,” said Carlos. “Uh…sir?” 

“Yes?” 

“What if…” Carlos couldn’t finish the question. Shades looked at the other man, knowing what he was trying to ask. 

“We’ll deal with that IF it happens,” answered Shades. “Now go,” ordered Shades. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Constantine watched Rupert hold Clarisse as they waited for news of Joseph. For all his familiarity with the Royal Couple and Joseph something had always bothered him about their relationship. They were friends yes, but there was something else, something deeper that held them together. If Constantine didn’t know any better he would swear the three were lovers. 

But that was impossibile! 

Rupert Renaldi was not the type of man to allow another man to make love to his wife nor did His Majesty strike him as bisessuale. 

Or at least he didn’t think he was. But there was something there, some profonda connessione that seemed to weave the three together. 

Constantine was well aware that both His Majesty and Joseph knew of his attraction to Clarisse. To Constantine she was la quintessenza della grazia _,_ and he knew if she were free he would actively pursue her. But she was not, and so Constantine simply flirted, much to the displeasure of her husband, and her Head of Security. 

But watching the two now, here in the waiting room Constantine was struck again with how close the three were. Constantine glanced at the third occupant in the room. Prince Philippe didn’t look as if he wanted to be here, and Constantine wondered once more why the Prince stayed. 

“Father, I thought Shades would have demanded you and Mother remain at the Palace for security sake. After all, this was a failed assassination attempt,” Philippe said. 

“Shades knows I would not have remained at the Palace nor would your Mother. Not with Joseph injured,” said Rupert. 

He was getting tired of Philippe’s attitude. 

“Father, not to be crass, but this is what Joseph gets paid for,” said Philippe. 

Any response from Rupert was forestalled by Shades arrival and orders. 

“Carlos, escort His Highness back to the Palace,” ordered Shades, looking directly at Philippe. 

“It would be best if we didn’t have the whole Royal Family in one place,” he added. He had entered the room right after Philippe’s first statement. Philippe made no attempt to argue. He really didn’t want to be here. Seeing his parents reactions over Joseph’s injuries made him uncomfortable. They were showing too much concern for someone who was essentially an employee, regardless of his position. 

Philippe kissed his mother goodbye, and took formal leave of his father before following Carlos out of the waiting room. He was soon flanked by his personal guard. 

After Philippe’s departure Shades walked over to Their Majesties. 

“I’ve contacted Pierre and his assigned team. He will be arriving tomorrow,” said Shades. 

Their Majesties looked relieved at the news. 

“As for the attacker, he is in custody and being questioned,” said Shades. 

“Who?” asked His Majesty. 

“Colonel Michaelson and his team,” answered Shades. “I felt it would be better to allow them the interrogation.” 

Rupert agreed with Shades decision. No member of Security would be able to resist the chance to ‘deal’ with the attacker. 

Not with Joseph’s life at stake. At least with Michaelson they had a chance of learning who ordered the assassination attempt before the attacker met with an accident. Rupert silently guaranteed there would be an accident. But only after the attacker was tried, and convicted. 

“Any news?” asked Shades. 

“None,” replied His Majesty. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

****

**_1994 December 14_ ** _  
_

_I’ve finally been cleared to return to full duty.  
_

_¡_ _Gracias a Dios!  
_

_A better Christmas present I couldn’t have been given._


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 39**

 

The ringing of the phone jolted him awake. A quick glance at the clock showed it was just past three in the morning. Wondering who was calling him at this hour he answered, listened shocked before responding, “Sì, sì. Io sarò lì _.”_

Hanging up the phone Constantine stared at if for a few minutes. Shaking his head to clear away the remains of sleep, and shock he began to dress. Forty-five minutes later Constantine assisted an extremely inebriated Genovian Head of Security out of the car, and up the steps of his house. Constantine watched as Joseph unsteadily made his way into the sitting room. Following, Constantine observed as the already drunk man poured himself a large glass of his best brandy. 

“Joe? Joseph? Giuseppe? Haven’t you had enough?” Constantine asked, concerned. 

His words penetrated Joseph’s alcohol filled haze. One moment Joseph was poised to drink, and the next, the glass and brandy impacted the wall, shards of glass littering the floor while brandy slowly flowed down the wall.

  

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Constantine watched his friend slowly drink the strong, sweet coffee. He knew what Joseph really needed was sleep but the man was clearly upset. Constantine hoped to get him to talk and calm down before helping him to bed. Constantine added a bit of milk to his coffee, stirred it, placing the spoon on the saucer. He lifted his cup preparing to take a sip. Joseph’s words halted his actions. 

“He’s dying,” Joseph said. 

The words were spoken softly. Constantine was sure he misheard. 

“Scusa?” asked Constantine, slowly putting his cup down. 

“He’s dying,” Joseph repeated, louder this time. 

“Mio dio,” whispered Constantine. He didn’t have to ask who Joseph was talking about, he knew. 

“Come _?_ From what? Are you sure?” Constantine asked. 

Joseph looked at the other man, grabbing his wrist tightly. “Swear to me…en tu honor...,” began Joseph. 

“Giuro _,”_ replied Constantine. “I swear on my honour. I will never repeat what we speak of.” 

“The doctors informed them…us… two months ago,” Joseph said. “His heart sustained damage from the infection he had…” 

“But I thought it was just pneumonia?” said Constantine, confused. He knew Rupert had suffered a bout of pneumonia. He had been at the Palace when Rupert had arrived after cutting his trip to Stockholm short. One look at him, and Clarisse called for the Palace physician and ordered Rupert to bed. Twelve hours later they were rushing him to the hospital, his breathing laboured. Constantine’s schedule didn’t permit him to stay in Genovia, but he had kept in touch by phone. He had been relieved when Rupert finally responded to treatment, and began to recover. 

Now Joseph was sitting here telling him that Rupert was dying. Joseph was saying something. Constantine struggled to hear him over the blood rushing through his ears. 

“… what we all thought, but when he didn’t respond to the course of antibiotics they prescribed they realized something else was wrong. Somehow he was exposed to a bacterial infection… the doctors…,” Joseph took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions. “It had a chance to inflict irreparable damage to his heart. By the time they discovered what strain of bacteria they were dealing with the damage had already been done.” 

Constantine swallowed thickly. “How long?” he asked, his voice rough. 

“Two, perhaps three years,” Joseph answered. “Less, if he suffers another bout of pneumonia.” 

“Madre di Dio,” whispered Constantine. 

Constantine looked down at his cup of coffee suddenly feeling the need for something stronger. Standing, he moved to one of the cabinets and pulled a bottle from the top shelf. Returning to the table he filled his cup almost to the top. He drank his cup in one go, intent on refilling it. The hand on his arm stayed his movement. 

“It doesn’t help,” Joseph said. 

Constantine looked at the other man before replacing the cap to the bottle and pushing it aside. Each man sat in silence lost in his own thoughts. Joseph was first to break the silence.

 “Can I count on you?” he asked, looking at Constantine intently. Joseph didn’t have to elaborate on what he meant. He knew the other man would understand. 

“Sì,” answered Constantine. Constantine looked at the exhausted man across from him, he needed sleep. Standing, Constantine said, “Vieni, amico mio, let’s get some sleep, we will talk more tomorrow.” 

“Hmmm…,” answered Joseph letting Constantine help him to his feet. Between the amount of alcohol, and the lack of sleep he had been experiencing Joseph wasn’t sure he could walk on his own. 

Constantine led him slowly up the stairs, and along the hall before stopping outside one of the guest rooms. Opening the door, he switched on the light. He assisted Joseph to the bed, holding him up when he stumbled. He helped Joseph to sit. Joseph fell back against the pillows, his exhaustion and the alcohol finally rendering him unconscious. 

Constantine knelt down, removing Joseph’s shoes. Lifting his legs onto the bed, Constantine covered Joseph with a soft throw before retrieving a few painkillers from the bathroom along with a fresh jug of water, and placing them on the end table. He would need them in the morning. Satisfied that Joseph would be fine with some sleep, Constantine switched off the light, and sought his own bed. 

Twenty minutes later Constantine entered his family’s chapel, and dropped to his knees in front of the statue of St. Joseph. Tears and stuttered prayers mixed as he wept. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“When will Philippe be crowned?” asked Constantine as he poured himself another cup of coffee. 

Morning found both men slightly refreshed. Joseph looked as he could use a few more hours of sleep, and Constantine knew from his reflection in the mirror this morning that he himself could use a few more hours too. 

Tomasso had been sent to retrieve Joseph’s belongings from his hotel as per the note Constantine had left for him. As usual, Tomasso performed his duties with his usual precision and alacrity. Joseph had called the Palace to inform them of his change of location, and to see receive reports from young Shades. Joseph then called the hotel to settle his account with them. Now, both men were enjoying brunch prepared by Tomasso. 

“He won’t be. At least not in the foreseeable future,” Joseph answered. He watched the gamut of emotions that flew across Constantine’s face. 

“What? Why?” asked Constantine, surprised. 

“He says he is not ready to take over as King. He wants another two years before he is crowned. Until then, Clarisse will be assuming the day to day running of the country while Rupert assists her,” said Joseph. 

Joseph sat back waiting for the explosion. 

“Cristo Gesù, quello che vi aspetta _?_ ” shouted Constantine. “How can he not be ready to rule? He has spent the past five…?” At Joseph’s nod that he was correct, Constantine continued,” …five years learning how to rule! The sooner he takes over the better it would be for Rupert and Clarisse,” Constantine said. 

Constantine stood abruptly and began pacing. 

“Is he so selfish that he cannot allow his parents some time to spend together? To allow his mother time to spend the last few years with her husband without having to worry about trade agreements, Parliament and the like.” Constantine turned to Joseph. 

“He truly is selfish, isn’t he?” he said, sitting down once more. 

“Selfish or afraid, I am not sure which,” replied Joseph. 

“Bah..,” said Constantine and began muttering in Italian. Joseph caught a few words, and was hard pressed not to laugh. Constantine had evidently picked up Rupert’s habit. 

Constantine managed to calm himself. 

“E la mia bellissima regina _?_ How is she handling this?” asked Constantine. 

Constantine grinned at the glare he received from Joseph for his name for Clarisse. Joseph rolled his eyes at Constantine’s grin. He loved to tease Joseph about Clarisse. Rupert no longer responded to his teasing but Joseph, Joseph would glare and glower, and Constantine would smile unrepentantly at his irritation. 

Constantine didn’t know if Rupert had informed Joseph that he was aware of his position within the Royal Household. Rupert had told him about the position that Joseph held. How he was _regina patronus quod paramour_ to Clarisse and what his position entailed. Constantine remembered his intense reaction when he learned that not only was Joseph Clarisse’s protector, but he was also her lover.

 

~*~*~*~*~*

 

_“So mia bellissima regina is nothing more than a puttana?” growled Constantine standing, angry at the thought of Clarisse in another man’s arms. He knew his reaction was idiotic. He wasn’t her husband. Rupert didn’t seem to have a problem with Joseph being her lover so why should he feel jealous.  
_

_‘Because you wanted to be her lover,’ part of him said. ‘Stai zitto,’ his conscience answered. ‘Admit it, you wanted to be the only other man in Clarisse’s life and now you find out Joseph beat you to the…’  
_

_‘Stai zitto! I don’t want…’ his internal dialogue was interrupted by a strong arm across his throat.  
_

_“What did you call my wife?” growled Rupert. He held Constantine against the wall, his arm across his throat and a dangerous look in his eyes. Constantine outweighed Rupert by a few kilograms but the look on Rupert’s eyes promised his death if Constantine didn’t apologize immediately.  
_

_Constantine rasped, “Mi scuso Vostra Maestà. I apologize. I should not have spoken about mia bellissima regina in such a manner. Mi scuso.”  
_

_Rupert looked deeply into Constantine’s eyes. Evidently satisfied with Constantine’s apology for referring to Clarisse in such a manner he released him and stepped back. Constantine reached up and rubbed his throat. Looking at the man in front of him he realized there was more to Rupert Renaldi than met the eye.  
_

_Apologizing again he waited for Rupert to indicate he should sit once more. Once seated Constantine listened as Rupert told him the history and meaning of Joseph’s position._

He also remembered the explanation Rupert gave him when he asked why he told him about the position Joseph held. 

_“I need to make sure Joseph has an ally, a strong ally,” said Rupert.  
_

_“Why?” asked Constantine.  
_

_“Philippe,” answered Rupert._

That was the end of the discussion. Regardless of his personal feelings or jealousies Constantine swore to support Joseph in any way he could.

 

~*~*~*~*~*

 

“As well as can be expected,” answered Joseph. “I don’t think she has faced the fact that her time with Rupert is limited. At least not yet. I am sure she will soon, but I worry the longer it takes her to face the truth the harder it will be for her to cope,” said Joseph. 

Joseph gazed into his coffee cup, hesitant to verbalize what he was thinking. He knew once he did he would be taking the chance that he would lose Clarisse, but he also knew Clarisse would need public support, something he was unable to give her without giving the gossips fuel for their fires. 

His position as _regina patronus quod paramour_ needed to remain a secret to the Genovian public. 

Parliament would jump at the chance to wrest power away from Clarisse at the first hint of scandal, and he knew Philippe was not in a strong enough political position. Joseph was determined to change that but until then Philippe would not be able to withstand any scandal attached to Clarisse and the Crown. He also knew Mabrey, and his ilk would be ready to strike the moment Rupert was buried. He needed to shield Clarisse from any attacks, and ensure a smooth transition when Philippe was finally crowned. 

Which, if he was correct wouldn’t be until after Rupert died. 

Joseph had at least two years to create a fortress of support around Clarisse that would withstand anything Parliament, Mabrey or anyone else threw at them. That support included Constantine Notte, who as a friend of Rupert’s and a ducal descendent could offer Clarisse the public support, and comfort he, himself could not as an employee of the Crown. 

Joseph was aware Rupert had told Constantine of his position. Joseph wasn’t surprised that Rupert had. Between his constant presence, irritating as it was at times, and the man’s code of honour both he and Rupert knew Constantine would never reveal his position to anyone. 

“We…Rupert and I…we need you in Genovia,” Joseph said. 

Constantine didn’t hesitate with his answer, he simply asked,” When?” 

“As soon as possible. There is a suite waiting…,” began Joseph. Constantine interrupted.

“No need for a suite. I purchased a small villa the last time I was in Genovia. It is outside of Pyrus,” said Constantine. 

Seeing the look of surprise on Joseph’s face Constantine said, “I’ve retired. As of the end of this month I will no longer be a government official. I was going to inform Rupert and Clarisse next week when I visited, but now seeing as you are here and my villa, according to my agent is ready to be moved into I will simply return to Genovia with you. 

I will be keeping this, my family home. My nephew will be moving in with his family. I offered it to him. He and his wife are both professori. He teaches matematica and his wife is a physicist. They have three children, two boys and a girl. Since I am not going to be using the house I thought it best if they move in. It is a perfect place to raise their children and Tomasso’s brother Antony will be taking over for Tomasso, so my niece will not be overwhelmed with its upkeep. Tomasso is joining me in Genovia,” finished Constantine. 

Joseph nodded. The house with its private grounds was indeed perfect to raise a family. 

“Have you addressed security needs at your villa?” asked Joseph. 

He knew Their Majesties would want to visit Constantine as often as possible. After Rupert’s death Joseph knew Clarisse would need someplace to go that wasn’t imbued with memories of Rupert. Constantine’s villa would be perfect. 

Joseph ruthlessly tamped down the thoughts that it would also be the perfect place for Clarisse to safely carry on an affair with Constantine. And while he didn’t want to think about Clarisse in Constantine’s arms or bed he knew it would eventually happen, either because of need or grief. Clarisse would need to feel alive, and desired. And Joseph couldn’t see Constantine denying himself the chance of making love to Clarisse. 

No man would. Joseph knew this, but knowing and accepting were separated by a wide chasm. Joseph just hoped he would be able to handle the jealousy he knew he would experience when their affair did happen. 

As heir, Philippe would expect Joseph to be heading his security team even though Philippe knew he was Clarisse’s personal bodyguard. Philippe would be determined to keep Joseph from his mother’s bed. Joseph expected to be away from the Palace on state trips with Philippe quite a bit after Rupert’s death. Which meant he would not be there to offer Clarisse support, but Constantine would be. 

Joseph studiously ignored the voice warning him he may lose Clarisse. He knew he might but Clarisse’s well-being was more important than his feelings. If he lost her to Constantine then so be it. He would still be _regina patronus quod paramour_ to her. He would always have his memories of their times together. But that was a few years down the road. Anything could happen between now and then. He would worry about it when the time came, not before. Turning his attention back to the conversation he heard Constantine’s answer. 

“I’ve addressed some but not all. I was going to ask you for opinions. I know Rupert and Clarisse will be visiting often,” said Constantine. He knew he needed to make sure his home was secure when they visited. 

“When we return to Genovia you and I can meet to discuss security. I know a good security firm who is discreet and trustworthy. Depending on your needs, and visitors a yearly contract may be a good idea. Or if you like two or three direct hires may work better,” said Joseph. 

“Thank you, my friend,” said Constantine. 

“No thanks are needed,” said Joseph. The men finished their coffee and headed inside. Constantine to his office to finish up some final paperwork and Joseph to the library to read while he waited for Constantine and dinner.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

**_1996 September 18  
_ **

_Philippe has already begun his campaign to keep me away from the Palace and his mother. He requested my presence on his trip to New Zealand, even though Shades is perfectly capable of handling the trip. Rupert refused, citing the need for me to be available for he and Clarisse. Philippe argued and Rupert simply told him that unless he was prepared to be crowned now as King, Rupert had final say as to who went where.  
_

_Philippe was not happy.  
_

_After Philippe left Rupert informed me I was to escort Clarisse to Paris this weekend for shopping. Rupert told me that she is well aware of Philippe’s campaign against me. I have a feeling Philippe is going to discover just how unhappy his mother is with him soon._

_Rupert also informed me that Constantine has set the date for the poker game, it is going to be next Saturday evening, the 28 th. I asked how we are going to escape the Palace without Clarisse discovering our whereabouts. He assured me he has a plan.   
_

_I hope so. I really don’t want to face Clarisse if she finds out we are playing poker again. Especially after the last time. She still has my leather jacket, and Constantine swears she still has his pants._

 


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 40**

 

Paris in the spring was lovely but Clarisse adored Paris in the fall, especially in mid-September when the summer season was winding down and the city was slowly regaining its vibrant energy. Clarisse smiled at Joseph as he helped her from the car. Joseph took her arm and along with Carlos and Anton they entered the Galeries Lafayette Department Store. Clarisse knew she would be able to find everything she wanted here.

After entering the store, Joseph moved them off to the side so she could retrieve her list. He knew from previous shopping excursions Clarisse had a particular method for shopping. Glancing around quickly Joseph asked, “Where would you like to start?”

“I think I would like to simply browse,” said Clarisse.

At this Joseph’s eyebrow rose. Clarisse laughed, and slipped her arm through Joseph’s. “I have my list but I am in the mood to browse,” she said to Joseph. “Don’t worry, I am sure by the end of the day, you, Carlos and Anton will be laden down with packages,” Clarisse teased smiling at the three men.

All three men laughed in return, and the foursome began to stroll through the department store.

 

~*~*~*~*~*

 

Joseph took the bags from Anton, and instructed he and Carlos to get some rest. He knew both men were exhausted after their shopping excursion today. This was their first trip as Her Majesty’s security during a shopping trip. He knew from personal experience both men would only have enough energy to eat dinner before collapsing into bed. It was the same for any security who accompanied Her Majesty on a shopping trip. By the end they were exhausted, and had a new found respect for their Queen.

Joseph placed the various bags next to sofa. He knew Clarisse would want to separate them by person, then she would pack them in the two large cases she brought with her for the sole purpose to hold the gifts. Joseph knew his gift was in one of these bags. He was tempted to see what she had chosen for him, but decided it wasn’t worth the chance of being caught. Besides His Majesty would enlist his help in his hunt for the gifts. He would wait to see if he could figure out what it was then.

Right now he needed to shower. Clarisse was already in the bath after ordering dinner for the two of them. He didn’t want to keep her waiting too long. Opening the door to his room, Joseph entered it.

Twenty minutes later, clad in a pair of black trousers, and a burgundy shirt, Joseph re-entered the main suite. He was surprised to see Clarisse and dinner already waiting. Gunter and Max must have assisted room service with delivery.

“Dinner is ready,” said Clarisse, sitting down. Joseph joined her at the table.

“What are we having?” asked Joseph, sitting down and placing his napkin on his lap.

“Your favourite,” said Clarisse, lifting the covers off the plates.

Joseph laughed when he looked down at his plate. Sitting there was a cheeseburger, complete with lettuce, tomatoes, mushrooms, and green peppers. Joseph glanced over at Clarisse’s plate, noted she also had a cheeseburger but unlike his, hers only had tomatoes on it. He watched as she finished preparing her burger before she cut it into two sections prior to eating.

“Mmmm…these are good,” said Clarisse said, wiping her mouth delicately after eating the first half of her burger. Joseph shook his head as he watched Clarisse dip her potatoes in mayonnaise.

“Is there something wrong?” she asked, smiling. She knew what his answer going to be.

“Fries are supposed to have ketchup on them, not mayonnaise,” said Joseph. Dipping his fries into his mound of ketchup.

“Mayonnaise is much better on chips than ketchup,” replied Clarisse. “At least, I am not using malt vinegar,” she added.

Both shuddered at Rupert’s habit of drowning his fried potatoes in malt vinegar. A habit he picked up while at boarding school in England. Needless to say, he never had to worry about sharing his potatoes when they were at festivals.

They finished the rest of their meal in silence. Joseph quickly gathered the dishes together before wheeling the trolley out, speaking with Gunter and Max, wishing both a good evening and re-entering the main suite.

He made sure the door was secured before walking over to the sofa where Clarisse sat, her feet up on the cushions, her heels tucked under the coffee table. Seeing her stretched out Joseph moved to sit in one of the wing chairs. Before he had a chance to sit down, Clarisse moved her feet, patted the cushion next to her and waited. Once Joseph sat down, she placed her feet across his legs, leaning back against the sofa arm.

Joseph took her feet in his hands and began to massage them.

“Hmm…that feels wonderful,” she said, another deep moan coming from her when Joseph pressed on a particularly tight spot on the bottom of her foot. “You have very talented hands Señor Ramirez,” she said, looking at Joseph through heavily lidded eyes. Joseph’s attentions were at once relaxing and arousing. She could feel the coil of pleasure at his attentions coalescing in her abdomen.

“Gracias,” he murmured, placing her right foot back into his lap he began to massage her left foot. “I think, no…I know I am developing a foot fetish,” murmured Joseph, as he massaged her foot.

Clarisse’s soft melodious laugh answered him. “Really?” she asked. “How did you come to this conclusion?” she teased.

“Rupert pointed it out to me. He said I have developed the same habit he has of allowing my gaze to linger on your feet and shoes. And I do,” said Joseph.

“And how does that translate to a foot fetish?” asked Clarisse huskily.

“Most men would be content to enjoy the sight of you dressed in your elegantly tailored outfits, which are always beautiful, but I find myself only wanting to see you dressed in your stockings, garters and shoes, especially when you wear high heels,” explained Joseph.

“I normally wear high heels,” Clarisse pointed out.

“I know,” said Joseph, grinned wickedly.

Clarisse looked at Joseph in exasperation. Joseph chuckled softly at Clarisse’s look. He loved it when she gave him a look of part exasperation and part indulgence; her eyes always so warm, and loving. Ending his foot massage he gently trailed his fingers up and down her calves and over her ankles. He smiled at her soft sigh.

They sat in silence, Joseph softly caressing ankles and calves, simply enjoying each other’s company.

“Has Philippe been giving you any problems?” Clarisse asked, breaking the silence.

“No more than usual,” replied Joseph, his fingers tracing the circular outline of her ankle.

“I suppose I will have to speak to him,” said Clarisse, not looking forward to the discussion.

She had more important things to worry about than her son’s petty jealousies. Philippe had been doing his level best to keep Joseph away from her. She had allowed Joseph to accompany Philippe on a few occasions. Usually on day trips, but she knew from Rupert Philippe was demanding Joseph accompany him on longer trips. His intent was to drive a wedge between she and Joseph. It amazed her Philippe didn’t realize that as Head of Security _, regina patronus quod paramour_ and her personal bodyguard, Joseph fell under her direction as Queen and mistress of the house. Didn’t the boy remember any of his Genovian lessons?

They retreated into silence once again.

“Joseph?” said Clarisse, breaking the silence once again.

“Hmm?”

“How do you prepare?” Clarisse asked. She knew Joseph would understand what she was asking. Her eyes closed, a few tears slipping out as she felt Joseph gather her into his arms.

“You can’t. All you can do is hold them, love them and enjoy every moment with them.,” said Joseph, resting his chin on Clarisse’s hair, her head resting against his chest.

“Is that what you did?” she asked.

“Yes. That and prayed…a lot,” replied Joseph.

“I don’t know if I can pray,” said Clarisse. “How can I pray when God is taking away the man I love? All I want to do is scream and yell. It’s not fair!” she said, her voice breaking, her hands clutching the fabric of Joseph’s shirt.

He could feel her body begin to shake, and when she tried to pull away Joseph tightened his hold.

“Llorar, mi reina,” he whispered as he held her tightly. At his words, the floodgates opened, Clarisse sobbed her pain and heartache out. Joseph simply held her as she wept. He could feel his own tears as they trailed down his cheeks, but did nothing to wipe them away. Right now his heartache was second to that of his Queen.

Minutes passed as he gently rubbed her back, offering nonsensical words of comfort as she cried. When he felt her body begin to relax he knew the combination of her emotional outburst, the exhaustion from both the day, and the past few months had finally caught up to her. Shifting slightly, he stood, pulling her to her feet. He swept her up in his arms, carrying her to the bedroom. He gently placed her back on her feet, and reached to pull the bedcovers back. Turning back to her, he steadied Clarisse as she swayed slightly on her feet.

He quickly divested her of her clothing, leaving her in her panties before coaxing her into bed. As he pulled the covers over her she grabbed his hand and whispered, “ Please stay.”

“I will. Just let me turn the lights off in the suite. I’ll be right back,” he said, squeezing her hand.

Joseph quickly re-checked the door to ensure it was locked, switched off the lights, and made his way back into her bedroom. Closing and locking the bedroom door, he undressed, leaving his boxers on. Turning off the lights, he climbed into bed. Clarisse immediately turned to lay in his arms, her head on his chest. She sighed softly, placed a soft kiss to his chest, and surrendered to sleep.

Joseph placed a soft kiss to her hair, covered the hand resting on his chest with his, murmured "dulces sueños mi amor _"_ and allowed himself to slip into sleep.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

Constantine knocked on Rupert’s office door before walking in.

“Constantine,” Rupert greeted warmly, surprised at seeing the other man. “To what do I owe this visit?”

“Your Majesty,” greeted Constantine. At Rupert’s raised eyebrow he amended, “Rupert.”

“Better,” said Rupert, looking at the other man’s expression Rupert added. “You look like a man with a problem. Sit, please,” he said waving at the sofa.

“Grazie,” replied Constantine, unbuttoning his suit jacket and sitting down on the sofa.

“Now what is bothering you, my friend?” asked Rupert., taking a seat across from him in one of the wing chairs. Rupert watched the other man struggle silently with what was bothering him.

“Are you sure?” Constantine asked.

“Yes,” answered Rupert. The conviction in his voice not lost on Constantine.

“How can you be so confident when I am not?” asked Constantine.

“How can you not be?” countered Rupert.

Rupert stood and walked over to the intercom. Pressing the button, he waited for Gerard to answer.

“Yes sir?”

“Gerard, please have a complete coffee service delivered, and I am not to be disturbed for the next two hours,” ordered Rupert.

“Yes sir,” answered Gerard.

“Oh, and Gerard,” said Rupert.

“After the coffee is delivered, take a long lunch,” ordered Rupert.

“But sir,” said Gerard.

“Gerard,” censure clear in Rupert’s voice. He smiled at the barely concealed sigh from his secretary.

“As you wish sir,” said Gerard.

“Good man,” replied Rupert, ending the connection.

Less than ten minutes later a complete coffee service was wheeled into Rupert’s office, and placed on the coffee table. After thanking, and dismissing Gerard, Rupert locked his office door, before resuming his seat. He poured two cups of strong Genovian coffee, handing one to Constantine. Rupert placed a few almond biscuits, and one pear tart on a plate for himself and sat back, sipping his coffee. He sighed in satisfaction.

Rupert ate the pear tart ,and one of the almond biscuits before placing his cup on the table. Leaning back in his chair, Rupert said, “I have one question for you, my friend.”

“Sì,” answered Constantine.

“You are in love with Clarisse, correct?” asked Rupert, trying not to grin at Constantine’s shocked look.

“Answer the question, mio amico. Are you or are you not in love with my wife?” Rupert asked again. Rupert was well aware of Constantine’s feelings toward Clarisse.

 _“_ Sì, io sono innamorato di tua moglie, _”_ answered Constantine.

“It is because you are that I am confident that you will support Clarisse. As for Joseph, you consider him a friend, correct?”

“Sì, _”_ replied Constantine.

“And as his friend you have offered your support to him. You know of his position, and what it entails. You know regardless of any choice Clarisse makes, Joseph will be first and foremost _regina patronus quod paramour_ to her until his death. And while I am sure there are times you have consigned the man to the depths of hell because of his unique position you respect, and admire him for earning, and holding such a position. It is your love for Clarisse, your respect, and admiration for Joseph, and your personal code of honour that I am counting on. That is why I am confident of your continued support of both my wife, and best friend. These three things will influence any decision you will make in the future,” explained Rupert.

“Besides, I also know if you make the wrong decision any chance of sharing Clarisse’s bed flies right out the window,” smirked Rupert. He laughed at Constantine’s rude gesture.

“By the way, where is mia bellissima regina _?”_ asked Constantine, noting Clarisse’s absence. Usually when he visited she joined he and Rupert.

“In Paris,” answered Rupert.

“Paris?”

“Yes, with Joseph.”

“She and Joseph? Paris?” Constantine said. He was sure he had misheard.

“Yes, she and Joseph are in Paris. Together. In the same suite. Alone,” teased Rupert. Rupert laughed when he heard Constantine growl _, "bastardo’_ ".

Rupert poured himself more coffee, took the last two almond biscuits before changing the subject from his wife and friend to next Saturday nights poker game, and the plan he had come up with to escape the Palace for a few hours.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse woke to a dry mouth, and an insistent bladder. She rose quietly from the bed in order not to wake Joseph. Walking across the dark room, she entered the bathroom, and flipped on the light switch. Taking care of her more personal needs first, Clarisse washed her hands after. She filled a glass with cool tap water and drank it down greedily. Switching off the light before opening the door, she re-entered the bedroom and quietly made her way back to bed.

Slipping her panties off she slid back under the covers and turned on her side, propping her head in her hand in order to look at Joseph. The covers were around his waist. Using her feet Clarisse moved them down until the rested just below his knees.

Joseph lay on his back, one arm flung above his head and the other flat against his side. Clarisse watched in the low light of the room as his chest rose and fell in rhythmic breaths. Slowly, as to not wake him she trailed her fingers over his chest, smiling at the feel of his crisp hair as it tickled the palm of her hand.

She trailed her fingers down his chest, circling his nipples before moving down his sides and across his stomach. She repeated her actions a few times, stopping each time Joseph stirred. She didn’t want Joseph awake yet. Clarisse wanted to explore without interruption, and while she knew Joseph would lie still for her, she enjoyed the idea of exploring him in this manner.

Clarisse slid her hand down Joseph’s stomach to the waist band of his boxers. Pleased to find him wearing loose fit boxers rather than his normal form fitting ones Clarisse trailed her fingers lightly over the soft cotton coming to a stop at the button that secured the opening of his boxers. She slowly unbuttoned the button, pulling the two sides of open just enough to fit her fingers inside the opening.

She bit her lip to keep from moaning as her fingers traced the silky feel of his flaccid penis. Gently gripping him she looked up at his face to make sure he was still asleep. Satisfied that he was still asleep, she very slowly stroked and caressed his penis. She gnawed on her lip as she felt his body react to her intimate caresses.

Her nipples tightened and her sex moistened in anticipation. Her breath came faster and her tongue continually moistened her lips as she watched Joseph become erect. She fought the urge to grip Joseph harder and stroke him faster. She didn’t want him to wake just yet.

But another moan from Joseph forced Clarisse to act. Shifting quickly to her knees, Clarisse straddled Joseph’s waist, her moist sex directly above Joseph’s erection. Breathing out slowly, Clarisse grasped Joseph gently and lowered herself down, moaning softly when she felt the spongy head slip in between her lips and enter her channel.

A deep sigh followed almost immediately as Clarisse’s pelvis came to rest against Joseph.

Clarisse squeezed her inner muscles enjoying the feel of Joseph inside her. But the need to move soon overwhelmed her and Clarisse began to slowly ride Joseph.

Joseph woke to the sight of Clarisse moving above him, and the exquisite feel of her surrounding him. He watched in awe as her body moved above his. His hands moved to grip her hips, urging her to speed up her movements. In answer to his urging she shifted forward, angling her hips in order to move faster and take him deeper.

Joseph’s response was instantaneous. “Oh god Clarisse…,” he moaned as she moved faster, the angle of his penetration changing every few strokes.

With the faster speed and new angle Clarisse felt her body tighten in anticipation. She knew it would be only a few more strokes before she came. She wanted to feel Joseph shuddering beneath her, but she knew she was too close to coming. When Joseph suddenly thrust up meeting her opposing thrust and twisted his hips just right Clarisse shattered in ecstasy, a low whine erupting from her throat.

Joseph couldn’t stop his body’s response to Clarisse’s orgasm. Seconds after Clarisse’s orgasm began Joseph’s started, his body shuddering beneath Clarisse’s as he spilled his essence into her.

Clarisse collapsed onto Joseph, her legs falling straight, her pelvis and chest nestled against his. She knew she should move but she was drained. She sighed as Joseph’s arms came up and around her. She thought, ‘This is nice. I’ll move in a bit,’ before she slipped into sleep.

Joseph held Clarisse as she recovered. He was exhausted. His body drained. He knew he should shift so Clarisse lay against his side but he was too tired. ‘Just a few more minutes, then I’ll move,’ he thought before he too slipped into sleep.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The limousine drove through the gates of the Palace, its occupants happy to be back home. The two occupants in the front seat of the limo were just thrilled that they were not going to be shopping. Three days of shopping with Her Majesty was more than enough for the two of them, thank you very much.

The two occupants in the back were happy because they would soon be enjoying a nice dinner with good wine and even better company. And if one of the occupants was also looking forward to later in the evening, and some time alone with her husband it was to be expected.

The limo came to a stop and the five occupants all exited.

“Welcome home, my dear,” greeted His Majesty as he walked down the steps of the Palace. As per protocol Clarisse dipped a slight curtsy, before reaching Rupert and kissing him on the cheek.

“It is lovely to be home,” replied Clarisse.

“Hello Joseph,” greeted Rupert.

Joseph bowed his head in greeting. “Your Majesty,” he said.

Tucking Clarisse’s arm into his Rupert greeted the other two occupants of the limo. “Gentlemen, I see you survived the trip,” Rupert teased.

Anton and Carlos both responded, “Yes sir, we did.” Anton added, “It is good to be home though, Sir.”

“I can imagine,” laughed Rupert. “At least here there is no chance of passing out from sheer exhaustion. I remember my first shopping trip with Her Majesty. I barely survived,” he teased.

“Oh you,” said Clarisse as she swatted him lightly on the arm.

Joseph chuckled.

Glaring at Rupert and Joseph, Clarisse said, “I suppose I could just return the presents I purchased for you.”

Gasping in horror, Rupert turned, took Clarisse’s hand in his and said, “No, not my presents! Anything but my presents!”

Clarisse, Joseph and the guards laughed at Rupert’s antics.

Turning to Joseph, Clarisse said, “Joseph, would you please make sure the cases are delivered to my office so I may wrap them later.”

“Of course, Ma’am,” replied Joseph. “Would you like me to unlock the cases?”

Seeing the interested look in Rupert’s eye, Clarisse answered, “No, I’ll unlock them myself. I wouldn’t want certain people,” she said looking directly at Rupert, “to be tempted to snoop.”

“She means you Joseph,” teased Rupert.

“And you,” Clarisse teased back.

“I would nev…,” Rupert stopped speaking when Clarisse raised her eyebrow. Deciding a change of subject was needed, Rupert said, “I have it on the best of authority we are having something decadent and chocolate for dessert.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“I’ll see your twenty and raise you twenty,” Rupert said, placing his chips on the table.

Joseph glanced at his hand, met the bet and sat back, sipping his beer.

Constantine glanced at his hand, looked at the up cards already on the table, met the bet and raised it another ten. Soon the seventh card was dealt and bets were laid on the final round. The round went to Joseph who managed a low straight.

Constantine gathered the cards and began to shuffle them. He dealt the first three cards and Rupert began the bet. As the cards were dealt the bets increased until Joseph folded and left Rupert and Constantine in the game, which Constantine won.

Before the next hand was dealt Joseph stood. “Refills?” he asked.

“Please..Yes,” answered both men. Joseph grabbed three beers out of the mini-refrigerator, and the bottle of vodka out of the freezer. He passed a beer to each man before turning back, and retrieving three shot glasses, and the bottle of vodka. Sitting back down, he poured three shots, and passed them out.

“What shall we toast tonight?” Constantine asked. Last time they had toasted almost everything.

“Our lovely lady,” answered Joseph.

“Good idea, Joe,” said Rupert. “To the most beautiful woman in the world. Santé!”

“Santé!” Joseph and Constantine echoed.

The men continued to play poker but soon tired of it. Instead they began toasting their lady, Clarisse Renaldi, Queen of Genovia. They soon ran out of vodka and replaced it with schnapps.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“Shh…Joe…your makin’ too much noise,” whispered Rupert.

“M’ not makin’ too much noise…you are,” answered Joseph, weaving down the path.

“M’ not,” argued Rupert, stumbling over a blade of grass that lay on the path. Joseph grabbed his King’s arm to keep him from falling.

“Merci.”

“N’problem,” replied Joe, releasing Rupert once he was sure he could stand.

“Hey Joe?”

“Yea?”

“Think she’s ‘wake?” asked Rupert.

“Don’ know,” said Joe.

“Did we call ‘er?” asked Rupert.

“Don’ think so,” slurred Joe.

“No?”

“No.”

“CLAR..,” Rupert started to shout before Joseph covered his mouth with his hand.

“Shhh….don’ wake her,” said Joe.

“Why?” asked Rupert.

“Cause we snuck..sneak’d…we left en secreto,” said Joe.

“Ohh..,” said Rupert. “Ohh…have t’be quiet then.”

Joe stumbled. Rupert moved to grab him. He failed and both men fell down onto the grass. They struggled to their feet, finally succeeding.

With his arm around Joe’s shoulder Rupert started to snicker.

“Whas’ funny?” asked Joe.

“I think m’ drunk,” snickered Rupert.

“M’too,” Joseph snickered back.

“Shhh..,” said Rupert. “We don’ want ‘nyone hearin’” he said.

Joseph put his finger to his lips and mimicked the quiet sign. Rupert signalled it back and the two men stumbled towards the Palace.

Shades followed at a discreet distance trying to keep from laughing as his King and his Boss staggered home. It was going to be an interesting morning later.

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 ** _18 February 1998_ ** _  
_

_Today, His Majesty comes home. After three weeks in the hospital he is being released today. The reality of Rupert’s health is that it is now evident he is in serious decline. The doctors have informed us that within the next twelve to fourteen months His Majesty’s life will end. His heart cannot take another serious illness . We all know he is now living on borrowed time.  
_

_The past three weeks have been hell on Clarisse. She amazes me with her strength.  
_

_Parliament, especially Mabrey and his group have been doing everything in their power to try to seize as much power for themselves during this time. Clarisse has thwarted them at every single turn. She has handled them with aplomb and diplomacy without once losing her temper or her patience.  
_

_If it had been I, Genovia would have been short a few parliamentary members.  
_

_Philippe has even begun to handle his share of the duties as Heir Apparent. And while he doesn’t have his mother’s style or his father’s skill he is not doing too badly. Although, he has allied himself with Lord Devereaux, brother-in-law to Viscount Mabrey. A situation Clarisse, Rupert and I agree all bears watching.  
_

_Clarisse has called Pierre home and she has also demanded Philippe contact Helen and arrange for her and Amelia to visit. She informed Philippe his father has the right to see his granddaughter once more before he dies. Honestly. I don’t see Philippe contacting Helen.  
_

_I can guarantee if Philippe doesn’t his relationship with his mother will be forever damaged. She will never forgive him._

 


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> single quotes ' ' and italics= thoughts  
> Italics= flashbacks and/or historical content  
> Languages used: English, Spanish, French and Italian

**Chapter 41**

 

“I’m fine,” Rupert growled as the attending nurse, a woman in her forties placed the blood pressure cuff on him, and set the monitor to check his pressure every ten minutes. 

“Yes, most everyone here is fine. Even that man two rooms down who is getting stitches,” she answered back, her accent giving her words a slow measured cadence. 

Shades chuckled, covering it with well-timed cough. Rupert glared at him. 

“You are not from here, are you?” asked Rupert. 

“No, I'm from the United States, Alabama to be exact. My husband is in the military and attached to the Consulate here. We moved the whole bunch of us here to Genovia for the next five years,” she said. “My eldest wasn’t happy until she discovered she would be able to attend the University here. Her grades have allowed her to start her first year at the university. “ 

“How many children do you have…Toni?” asked Rupert, reading her name off her tag. He flinched a bit when she stuck the IV into his hand. 

“Five, one girl and four boys. The exact opposite of my sister who has four girls and one boy,” the nurse answered. “You?” she asked. 

“Two boys, or men, as they are both grown,” answered Rupert. 

“No matter how old they get, they will always be those little boys who came crying when they skinned their knees,” said Toni. She finished with the insertion of the IV and the placement of the cardio tags. 

“There all done,” she announced. “Now we just wait to see what the readings are. And if you are good, I may be able to find a lollipop for you later,” she teased. 

“As long as it is cherry,” replied Rupert. 

“It may well be pear,” said Toni. 

“I like pear too,” added Rupert, as Toni left the room. 

Rupert waited for the door to close before he asked Shades. “Did you contact Joseph?” 

“Yes. Joseph is bringing Her Majesty here immediately,” said Shades. 

“Parliament?” asked Rupert. 

“Joe’s exact words were ‘Parliament can go hang’,” chuckled Shades. 

Rupert joined him in laughter. But soon his eyes closed thanks to the medication. Shades waited until he was sure His Majesty was asleep before he sat down slowly in the chair next to the bed, his head in his hands. He allowed a few tears to escape before he took a shuddering breath. Tears would have to wait, he had a job to do. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Joseph walked through the quiet garden. He knew he should be in bed but found it difficult to sleep. Rupert’s scare this week highlighted the need to begin the preparations for the Royal Funeral. He didn’t want to think about the funeral, but knew he couldn’t ignore it any longer. He made a mental note to speak to Claude concerning the funeral and the traditions surrounding the funeral for a ruling King. He needed to make sure everything would be in place when necessary. 

Sometime within the next twelve months he would be burying his friend. Joseph clamped down on the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. 

He also needed to arrange for the participants for the Vigil of the Guard. Pierre and Philippe would naturally stand Vigil, as would he and Shades. Joseph just needed to arrange for at least twelve to sixteen more guards to stand Vigil. Each set of four would stand for six to eight hours. Again he would need to speak to Claude about the proper length of time the guards should stand. 

He knew he would need to place Pierre and Philippe on separate rotations, along with Shades and himself. He also needed to decide how to handle security at both the Cathedral and the Royal Tomb. 

He sighed deeply, rubbing a hand across his face and eyes, studiously ignoring the wetness that coated his hand. 

He stopped near one of the myriad of rose bushes planted in the garden. He gently plucked one of the closed blooms, caressing it, lost in thought. 

Joseph stood there for at least an half hour before he turned on his heel, heading back to the Palace and his suite. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse walked quickly down the hall. She was late and she hated to be late. She nodded at Michael as he held open the door to the Green Salon for her. 

“I am sorry, darling,” she said as she walked into the salon. She stopped immediately when she noticed no one but she was in the room. 

Clarisse was puzzled. She was sure Rupert had said to meet him in the Green Salon for lunch, but he was nowhere to be found. Walking over to the small table near the French doors she noticed the crème envelope propped up against the flower arrangement. Clarisse picked it up, opened it and began reading. 

 

_My darling Clarisse,  
_

_As you can see I am not here. I decided today was too nice to remain inside so I arranged a surprise picnic for us. Please be so kind as to allow Shades to escort you to where I am. Also you might want to change into something less majestic and more sensual._

_Don’t keep me waiting too long darling. As I might fall asleep, and that would leave us both dissatisfied.  
_

_Love, your impatient husband,_

_Rupert_

 

Clarisse smiled as she tapped the missive against her lip mentally reviewing her wardrobe. She knew just the outfit to wear for her surprise picnic. She wasn’t surprised to find Shades waiting for her outside the salon door. 

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes,” she informed Shades, as she walked past him, confident he would follow. 

Clarisse was ready in seven minutes. Opening the door to the Royal Suite she was met with a long, low whistle. 

“Wow!” 

Clarisse smiled and did a complete turn to show off her outfit. “Do you like?” she asked. 

“Very beautiful, Maman,” said Pierre. “But what’s the occasion?” he asked, waving his hand to indicate her outfit. 

“I have a date,” she said. 

“With who?” inquired Philippe. 

“A very handsome man,” replied Clarisse. 

She refused to elaborate. After his refusal to contact Helen and Amelia, Clarisse preferred to keep her interactions with Philippe to a minimum, as it was for the best. This way neither would say anything they would later regret. Although, in her case, as she informed both Rupert and Joseph, she would regret nothing she said to her selfish youngest son. 

Philippe began to say something but was interrupted by Shades. “Ma’am, we really must leave if we want to arrive on time,” said Shades. 

“Of course Shades,” answered Clarisse, sending him a grateful look. Placing a kiss to the cheeks of both her sons, Clarisse allowed Shades to assist her with her light sweater before taking his proffered arm. She knew he did it only to irritate Philippe, as Philippe made his feelings well-known on what he called Security’s overt-familiarity with the Royal Couple. Clarisse tossed a smile over her shoulder at her sons then allowed Shades to escort her to the waiting vehicle. 

“Is he following?” whispered Her Majesty. 

“Yes,” answered Shades, knowing instinctively who Her Majesty was referring to. 

“Then perhaps the front seat would be best,” suggested Clarisse. 

Shades raised an eyebrow at her request, grinning when he saw the gleam in her eye. 

“Front it is,” said Shades. “But you are explaining it to Joe,” added Shades. 

Clarisse simply smiled in return. Exiting the Palace, Clarisse noticed the Alfa Romeo waited for them. The waiting footman had the backdoor opened but at the negative shake of Shades head he closed it. Shades walked Clarisse around to the passenger side, opened her door and handed her in, allowing her time to adjust her skirt before closing the door. Shades walked around and took his seat behind the wheel, started the car and drove from the Palace. Neither remarked on the disapproving expression on Philippe’s face as they drove away. 

Once free of the Palace area Shades turned onto the ocean road, heading south. 

“Where are we going?” asked Her Majesty. 

“I am under strict orders not to reveal our destination,” replied Shades. 

“Even if I order you to?” teased Her Majesty. 

“Even then,” said Shades. “His Majesty threatened to hang me by my toes in the courtyard if I revealed our destination.” 

“Oh, well we can’t have that,” teased Clarisse, who then began trying to guess where they were heading. Shades, to his credit, acknowledged none of the guesses, much to the exasperation of Her Majesty. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Rupert watched the car drive up the road. Everything was in readiness, and he couldn’t wait to see Clarisse’s reaction. They hadn’t been here in years, in fact since they were engaged, and had been caught in an unexpected storm forcing them to seek shelter. It had taken all of Rupert’s considerable talents, which were many, to arrange this picnic. 

It was here Clarisse had seduced him, which had surprised him. After resisting his considerable charm and appeal for two years, she had for some odd reason, a reason he thanked the heavens for, decided to no longer fight her attraction to him. She had kissed him, not the friendly almost innocent kisses she normally bestowed on him, but a sexually charged kiss that had left him shaken and aroused. She had then pushed him to the ground, removed only the clothes necessary and had made love to him for the first time. 

She had been a virgin, something that inordinately pleased him and terrified him. He had actually been dreading their wedding night; he didn’t want her first experience with lovemaking to be uncomfortable. He knew it would be, his grandmère had told him exactly what a woman felt as a virgin; he had wanted to spare Clarisse that experience. His grandmère had actually encouraged him to allow Clarisse in the dominant position, so she could control the tempo of their lovemaking. But she had taken all those concerns and fears from him when she seduced him. The feel of her around him had been exquisite. For days afterwards he had been able to feel her skin, her heat and even the taste of her kisses. He wanted to relive those memories and create new ones. Ones that Clarisse could look back on with love after he was gone. 

He knew both Joseph and Constantine would take care of Clarisse and love her, but he needed to show her how much he loved and adored her, and how much he hated the thought of leaving her. He knew they would be reunited after her death. In fact, he wasn’t sure how he knew. but he was positive he, Clarisse, and Joseph would be spending eternity together. The love they felt for each other would continue to the end of time. 

Rupert watched as Shades assisted Clarisse from the front seat of the car. _‘Joseph is not going to happy about that,’_ thought Rupert before disregarding any security issues, in favour of savouring the outfit Clarisse wore. 

She wore a simple ivory silk dress, with a soft sweater over it. The dress was form fitting at the top and flared at the bottom. It stopped mid-calf and accentuated her beautiful legs. On her feet she wore low, strappy sandals. The overall effect was one of beauty, sensuality, and Rupert could feel his body respond to the vision she presented. 

Walking down the flagstone path to greet her, Rupert relished the moment when Clarisse realized exactly where she was and the meaning behind this particular venue. 

“Oh Rupert…how…when?” she asked. 

“Being King does have some perks,” answered Rupert, before kissing her. Clarisse relaxed, enjoying the feel of Rupert’s strong arms around her. She moaned when she felt his tongue slip into her mouth, sparring with her tongue before retreating only to return again. Clarisse’s knees went weak and her hands clenched tightly at Rupert’s shoulders when he began to nibble and pull on her lower lip before moving to her ear and kissing that spot behind her ear. 

“Oh…Rupert..,” Clarisse moaned, angling her head to allow him greater access, awash in the sensations that her husband produced. 

Ending his kisses, Rupert looked down at the flushed, heated face of his beautiful wife. He loved it when he could make her forget everything but him, as he did now. With his arm around her waist, so she was tucked against his side he led her across the front flagstones to the side of the house, and to the waiting picnic that was laid out in the back garden. He helped her sit on the soft blanket, handing her a glass of wine before stretching out next to her. 

He watched as she investigated the large picnic hamper, pulling the various items out and laying them down on the blanket. Once unpacked, they began enjoying the sumptuous picnic afforded them, feeding each other small titbits of food between kisses and caresses. Once satiated with food, Rupert helped Clarisse repack the hamper before moving it off to the side. 

Once done, Rupert lay back down on the blanket and pillows pulling Clarisse into his arms. Clarisse lay her head on Rupert’s chest, her fingers playing with the buttons of his soft linen shirt. They lay there enjoying the feel of each other. 

“This is nice,” said Clarisse, placing a kiss to Rupert’s chest. 

“Hmm…very,” answered Rupert, his hand caressing the soft skin of Clarisse’s arm. The afternoon was warm and her sweater lay on top of the hamper. The trees offered dappled shade to the two as they lay in the garden, surrounded by the fragrances of roses, lavender, honeysuckle and annuals. The dappled shade, the sweet scent of the flowers coupled with the warm afternoon created a private utopia for the Royal couple. 

“Although I can think of something even nicer,” Rupert said, shifting so Clarisse lay beneath him. 

“And what would that be?” asked Clarisse, looking up into the dark, passion-filled eyes of her husband and King. 

“This,” said Rupert, kissing Clarisse. Clarisse sighed into Rupert’s slow, sensual, drugging kiss. The coil of desire that always accompanied Rupert’s kisses soon overwhelmed Clarisse. She became lost in his kisses, returning his passion with her own. 

“Je t'adore, je t’aime, mon chéri,” said Rupert, placing kisses and nips to Clarisse’s neck. 

“Je t’aime. Mon roi, mon amour,” Clarisse replied, her hands caressing Rupert’s strong back. She sighed when Rupert pulled the straps of her dress down to expose her breasts to the warm summer air. And when his mouth captured a nipple between his lips, and began to suckle, she arched against him, holding his head tightly to her breast. 

She moaned in disappointment when she felt him release her, and move away. She opened her eyes to find him standing above her, his hand outstretched. Placing her hand in his she allowed him to pull her to her feet. She offered no resistance when he slowly lowered the zipper of her dress, and pushed it off her body to pool at her feet. She stood waiting, dressed in nothing but a pair of silk panties and her heels. Her tongue licked her suddenly dry lips as she watched her handsome, sexy husband quickly divest himself of his shoes, shirt, and linen pants highlighting the fact that he wore nothing underneath. 

The hot desire that flashed through Clarisse at the sight of her magnificently aroused husband was nothing in comparison to the need that filled her when he dropped to his knees in front of her, slowly removing her sandals. Clarisse barely remained standing when he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pulled them slowly down her legs. And when his tongue darted out to taste her, Clarisse finally gave up her fight with gravity, collapsing onto the soft blanket. 

Rupert pulled his beautiful wife into his arms, kissing her with passion, while his hands trailed across her soft skin. His lips finally came to rest near her ear. 

“I am going to make love to you, mon chéri femme, until you scream in ecstasy. And when you can’t scream anymore, I am going to start all over,” he whispered. Rupert gave Clarisse no chance to respond. He captured her lips in another devastating kiss, teasing and tasting her mouth before moving down to tease first one nipple then the other. 

His hands moved across her skin, massaging and caressing every inch. His fingers trailed across her stomach down to her centre, combing through the soft hair that covered her before dipping into her warm wet channel then slipping out to tease her clitoris. 

Clarisse arched into Rupert’s caress as he teased and fondled her, increasing her desire until she was gasping and shuddering in his arms in what she was sure was just the first of the many orgasms she would be experiencing this afternoon. 

Rupert gave Clarisse no time to recover. He moved between her opened legs, pulling one high onto his hip before he slid into her quivering channel. His thrusts were measured and controlled. He knew thanks to his medication, he would only be able to come once, with no chance of achieving another erection for at least a few hours. He was intent on making love to his wife for as long as he could before he achieved release. 

He kept his thrusts controlled, driving Clarisse’s excitement higher and higher until she came again. And still he allowed her no chance to recover. Instead, he continued his controlled thrusts until she was begging.  

“Oh…Rupert…please…I can’t…I can’t..,” Clarisse pleaded, her arousal straddling that fine line between pain and pleasure. She had come already twice, and she could feel her body tightening in anticipation of a third orgasm but she wasn’t sure she could survive a third. Her breathing was laboured, her heart raced and her muscles felt as if they wanted to rip out from under her skin. She couldn’t grasp a thought, her head swam and she knew she would pass out if she came again. She was at once scared and exhilarated. 

“Regarde-moi, Clarisse. Regarde-moi. Ouvrez vos yeux et regarde-moi,” growled Rupert. He was so close. So very close. He wanted to see Clarisse’s eyes when she came. He wanted her to see the love, devotion and desire he felt for her. He wanted her to see how important she was to him. He wanted her to remember this moment, this one small moment when nothing else mattered but her! 

Clarisse struggled to open her eyes. 

They were so heavy. 

It was so hard! 

Finally, she managed to open them, looking directly into the gaze of her husband. What she saw triggered her orgasm, her shout of release filling the warm quiet of the afternoon. Rupert’s orgasm followed hers, his shout of release mingling with Clarisse’s as his gaze remained locked with the passion and love-filled, dark cerulean gaze of his wife before her eyes slid closed and she slipped into unconsciousness. 

Rupert wasn’t alarmed that Clarisse hadn’t stirred yet. He had pushed her body and mind to the brink and beyond. He knew it would be some time before she recovered. Draping a second soft blanket over the them he allowed himself to relax. Soon his even breathing joined that of his wife and they slept. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Joseph looked at the two as they slept entwined in each other’s arms. He carefully set Clarisse’s dress and Rupert’s clothes on the hamper before placing their shoes in front of it. Taking one last look at the sleeping couple, and ensuring himself that Rupert was breathing easily, he walked back to the house, entering the kitchen to join Shades at the well-worn table. 

“How are they?” asked Shades. 

“Asleep,” answered Joseph. 

“Hmm...,” said Shades, continuing to read the security plan for the state funeral. It was strange to be preparing for a funeral when the person who was to buried was still alive, but Shades knew it was at the behest of His Majesty that this be done now. His Majesty didn’t want Her Majesty to have to deal with any of this when the time came. 

“Anton would work better with Carlos,” suggested Shades. 

“Note it,” said Joseph. “Any others?” 

“No, everyone should be fine with their assignments,” replied Shades, as he noted the change before handing the planning book back to Joe. Joe accepted the book back, noted the changes before closing it. 

“At least that is done,” Joseph said. “Have you had any problems?” Joseph asked, knowing Shades would know what he was asking about. 

“Not many. The usual, for the most part,” said Shades. “Although I am fast losing patience with his whinging,” added Shades. “Are you sure there isn’t a way to have Prince Pierre crowned king rather than the Brat?” Shades asked. 

Joseph glared at Shades. He knew Security had given the nickname to Philippe in retaliation for his treatment of him but he didn’t like it. To refer to the heir to the Crown as a brat was unprofessional, not to mention dangerous. “Don’t call him that,” growled Joseph. 

“Sorry, won’t do it again,” Shades said quickly. His Majesty had coined the term and it had stuck with Security, something he was sure the boss was unaware of. 

“He met with Devereaux again,” Shades said. 

“When?” asked Joseph. He didn’t like Philippe’s relationship with Devereaux. The man was too closely related to Mabrey. 

“Yesterday,” said Shades. “They discussed a number of things including the Princess and Lord Nicholas.” 

“Particulars?”

“Limited. You don’t think the Prince is intending to arrange his daughter’s marriage, do you?” asked Shades. 

Shades was one of the few who knew the complete story about Amelia, Philippe’s daughter. As Joseph’s second-in-command he was privy to many state secrets. He had only seen Amelia once, two years ago. He had volunteered to take some photos of her while she and her mother were on vacation. Shades remembered thinking she had the promise of beauty if she could just figure out how to move without injuring herself- she was a klutz but so were his sisters at her age. 

“He could be, but why? Devereaux isn’t in a strong political position. And his connection to the Renaldi’s is four generations removed. Granted, it could cause a problem if there were no successor but Amelia negates that concern,” said Joseph. 

“Is there a law or edict that might cause a problem?” asked Shades. His time spent with Micah and Claude had given Shades an avid interest in Genovian history. 

“I don’t think so, but it might not be a bad idea to start researching the old laws and edicts, just in case,” said Joseph. 

“I’ll start then, if I find anything I’ll let you know,” said Shades. The two men went on to discuss other concerns while they waited for Their Majesties to wake. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Late Summer passed into fall then winter before finally giving way to spring once more. The Palace gardens were in bloom and it wasn’t unusual to find Their Majesties enjoying the warm spring days by lounging in the garden. They were often joined by Signor Notte, who along with Joseph were rarely seen out of the company of Their Majesties.

  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Rupert picked up his book before heading to Clarisse’s office. He smiled at Charlotte, Clarisse’s new assistant when she greeted him. He liked Charlotte. She was efficient, quiet and never fussed when he interrupted Clarisse at all hours of the day. He hoped she accepted the position permanently with Clarisse, when her six months was up. She would be good for his wife. 

“Anyone with her?” His Majesty asked, his hand on the door handle. 

“Only His Highness and Joseph,” answered Charlotte. 

Charlotte fought the smile that threatened when His Majesty rolled his eyes at the news his son was in with his wife. Charlotte discovered, in the short time she had worked at the Palace, that while everyone loved Philippe few wanted to interact with him. A situation she found confusing at first until she realized Philippe was jealous of Joseph, and his relationship with Their Majesties. And while he was jealous of Joseph, His Highness enjoyed the company of Signor Notte, a close family friend. Why His Highness would be jealous of the older man was unknown to Charlotte. After all, Joseph was Their Majesty’s ages. It was only be natural they have quite a lot in common. She again thought it rather childish of His Highness to complain of their close relationship. 

“I suppose I should rescue her,” His Majesty said, making no move to open the door. 

Charlotte refrained from saying anything, instead she just smiled. Rupert let go of the door, walked over to Charlotte’s desk and perched on the side of it. 

“I think I’ll just wait here,” he said, earning a soft chuckle from Charlotte, laying his book on the desk next to him. Charlotte commented on the book and soon the two were deeply involved in a discussion about the author, his previous books and their favourite characters. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  

Clarisse walked out to the patio. Joseph would be arriving as soon as he took care of a slight security matter. Constantine would be joining them for dinner this evening and later, the four of them would be enjoying a few hands of poker. She knew the men were hoping to recoup their losses from her. 

Rupert had informed her earlier he would be reading on the west patio, and to come find him when she was ready for tea. Dear Charlotte had arranged for tea to be delivered to the patio. Today was too lovely to take tea inside. Clarisse knew Rupert would probably be napping, or at least she hoped he was. He hadn’t slept well last night, and she was concerned. 

Reaching his side, she gazed down at the handsome face of her sleeping husband. Leaning down, she placed a soft kiss to his hair before perching gracefully on the side of the chaise and kissing his lips.   

When Joseph arrived he found Clarisse still perched on the side of Rupert’s chaise. He was ready to tease Clarisse about her choice of seats when she turned to face him. The tears streaming down her cheeks, and the absolute devastation on her face said more than words. He dropped to his knees next to the chaise, and with a shaking hand reached out to verify what, at the moment, was still unreal. Cool, silent skin met warm fingers verifying what Joseph had prayed was a dream but was now fast becoming reality. 

He keyed his lapel mic and simply said, “My king is deceased.” His voice broke on the last word of the traditional announcement. He barely heard the numerous orders relayed through the Palace at the news of the King’s death. Instead, his attention was on the woman before him, who sat next to the former King, caressing his cool hand. Minutes passed as Joseph watched Clarisse simply caress Rupert’s hand. The conversations coming across his earpiece finally coalesced into meaningful words snapping Joseph out of his state of shock. 

“Clarisse…Clarisse? The honour guard will be here in a few minutes along with the Royal Physician to attend to Rupert,” said Joseph. “Clarisse?” Joseph said again, placing his hand on her arm. 

He didn’t think she heard him but he needed to get her attention before they were inundated with guards. His soft touch must have registered for she stood gracefully, her eyes never leaving Rupert’s form and moved back from the chaise. Joseph stood next to her as they waited for the guards and the Royal Physician. 

The arrival of the guards and the physician was sombre. After performing the necessary examination on His Majesty, the Royal Physician stepped back allowing the honour guard to drape His Majesty in royal purple before transferring him to a gurney. Her Majesty and Joseph, with the guard and Royal Physician escorted His Majesty’s body into the Palace and down the main hallway to the front entrance. 

As His Majesty’s body passed, every member of the Royal Household bowed and curtsied. When they reached the front entrance, they stopped. The guard lifted His Majesty, and in silence carried him from the Palace for the final time. The entire Royal Household followed His Majesty outside. When the guard reached the bottom of the outside stairs, they stopped and placed His Majesty on the ground. They turned as one to face the entrance of the Palace. Above them, Her Majesty stood alone. With grace, that would be talked about for years to come, Her Majesty, Queen Clarisse Mignonette Gerard Renaldi, performed a deep curtsy to her beloved husband and sovereign, remaining in position until His Majesty’s body was secured in the ambulance, and escorted to its final destination to be prepared for burial. 

The entire Royal Household watched as Her Majesty gracefully rose from her deep curtsy, accepted Joseph’s arm and allowed him to escort her back into the Palace. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Pierre stood in the doorway watching his mother stare out the window. Both he and Philippe were away this afternoon when his mother found his father. He had been visiting a small parish two hours away and received a phone call from Joseph telling him of his father’s death. The pain he had felt at the news was overwhelming but he hadn’t cried. 

He found he couldn’t cry. 

He wasn’t sure why, perhaps it was because he wanted to appear strong for those around him or maybe because it didn’t feel real, but he found himself unable to cry. Even when he comforted Philippe, who had been informed while meeting with Parliament, had cried in his arms, Pierre found his eyes strangely dry. 

Now as he looked at his mother he found his eyes still dry. Perhaps there was something wrong with him, maybe he was as Philippe once accused him of being years ago- maybe he was cold and unfeeling. Pierre walked over to his mother and slipped his arms around her. 

“Maman,” he whispered, settling his chin on the top of her head and simply enjoying the scent of her. 

“Pierre, mon renard,” his mother said, turning in his arms and resting her head on his chest. “Are you alright?” she asked, looking up into his eyes. He saw the evidence of his mother’s earlier tears. 

“Oui _,”_ he answered. “It hurts but...,” he tried to explain but found the words stuck in his throat. 

Clarisse cupped her eldest son’s cheek softly and said, “I understand.” 

Her eyes conveyed her understanding and love. She knew each of her son’s would handle their grief in different ways. Philippe would wrap his around him like a cloak, almost revelling in it. While Pierre’s would take time. 

He was most like her in that respect. He kept tight rein on his feelings, until something or someone forced them to the surface. 

She had been able to cry for her loss at first. She knew the full brunt of her grief would not hit her for some time. But she also knew that when it did Joseph would be there for her, offering comfort and helping her cope. Perhaps Pierre needed Joseph just as much as she did. She would insist Pierre remain at home for a few months, so he would be here when his grief overwhelmed him. Resting her head on her eldest son’s chest she closed her eyes and prayed for the strength to survive the next few days. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

 

Pierre stood at attention at his post near the casket. He, along with the other three guards at Vigil were dressed in full military uniform, their swords unsheathed, pointing at the floor in deference and their heads bowed. Most forgot that the eldest Renaldi had served four years in the military, prior to his abdication. He knew from Joseph and Claude he, and his three would be stand Vigil for six hours, before being relieved by the next four. 

The crowds paying their respects to his father had not lessened even at this late hour. He knew it was highly unlikely the crowds would diminish even when Vigil ended and His Majesty was moved to the Cathedral for Mass, then to the Royal Tomb for interment. The turnout was a testament to how much his father was loved. Doing the isometric stretches as instructed by Joseph to keep his muscles loose, Pierre began to softly recite one of his father’s favourite poems to pass the time. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse looked at her reflection in the mirror. It was amazing what skilfully applied makeup could do for one’s look. The dark circles under her eyes, the redness from crying and the paleness of her skin were all skilfully hidden, lending her an aura of strength that many would remark on. 

She knew most of the gossip rags would be present at the funeral, intent of capturing the devastated Queen as she prostrated herself in front of her beloved husband. She refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her grief. She knew the moment they glimpsed even the slightest pain they would twist and turn it into something hateful and insensitive. She refused to allow that to happen. She would cry in the privacy of her own home and present a stoic façade to the gossips. Only those closest to her would be able to see her pain. 

Clarisse picked up her black gloves before walking out of her suite. Young Anton waited for her in the corridor. Clarisse noticed the pain and exhaustion on his face. She accepted his arm, squeezing it lightly in comfort. He acknowledged her comfort with a short nod before he escorted her to her the waiting cars. 

Joseph, Their Royal Highnesses, Shades and the members of the Vigil were escorting His Majesty to the Cathedral. The procession would arrive at 11:45, thirty minutes from now. Enough time for Anton and his group to escort Her Majesty to the Cathedral to await their arrival. Sliding into the front passenger seat of the limousine Anton signalled for the cars to proceed. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Elizabeth proceeded Philip into the pew sliding to sit next to Beatrix. 

“Have you spoken to Clarisse today?” asked Elizabeth. 

“No, not yet. The last I spoke with her was yesterday evening. You?” replied Beatrix. 

“Not since yesterday afternoon,” replied Elizabeth. 

Philip leaned forward and added, “I spoke to Shades, Joseph’s second this morning. He said, Charlotte, her assistant told him she slept some last night.” 

“Good,” replied Beatrix. She watched as various heads of state and others arrived. “That Penworthy woman just arrived,” said Beatrix. 

“Where?” asked Elizabeth, glancing around discreetly. 

“Right side,” said Philip, catching sight of the gossip reporter. 

“Salope,” hissed Elizabeth. 

“Liz!” admonished Beatrix. 

Elizabeth glared at Beatrix and replied, “As if you weren’t going to call her a teef.” 

Beatrix replied, “Actually I was going to call her…well, never mind what I was going to call her. I just hope she has enough sense to report only the facts this time. Because if she doesn’t…Joseph will be..,” Beatrix stopped speaking. 

Clarisse had just arrived. She entered from the side and was escorted to her seat by a young guard. 

“She looks exhausted,” whispered Beatrix. 

“And heartbroken,” added Elizabeth, grabbing Philip’s hand. Philip squeezed her hand in response and she sent him a grateful smile. 

The three Royals watched their friend as she waited for the arrival of her husband, and the beginning of the end of her life with him. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Constantine’s gaze never wavered from the front of the Cathedral. His eyes remained on Clarisse throughout the Mass. He watched as she remained stoic throughout the service, occasionally but briefly taking Pierre or Philippe’s hand in hers. Other than those signs of distress her face betrayed little to the majority of the attendants. 

But he could see her heartbreak and pain. 

It took all his resolve not to go to her, take her in his arms and let her cry her pain away. 

But Joseph had made it clear they were not to approach her. One comforting gesture from either of them would shatter her carefully crafted façade leaving her exposed to the world. Something neither of them would allow to happen. 

As she followed Rupert’s casket as it was carried out of the Cathedral, her sons flanking her sides, Constantine clenched his hands into fists to prevent himself from reaching out to her. There would be time for comfort later. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Joseph kept his gaze on Clarisse. She stood tall, flanked by Pierre on the left and Philippe on the right. Her gaze was fixed on the casket in front of her as it was placed inside the Royal Tomb. He watched as she walked forward, and placed a single mauve rose atop the casket before kissing the dark walnut wood. He watched as she moved to the side allowing Pierre and Philippe to pay their final respects to their father before all three exited out into the bright afternoon sunshine. He noted she made no attempt to wipe the few tears from her cheeks as Pierre escorted her to the waiting limousine, Philippe following. He watched as all three entered the limo and drove off. 

Turning back, he re-entered the Royal Tomb coming to a stop in front of the casket. He knelt on the hard stone, bowing his head as he recited a short prayer for his King. 

Rising to his feet, he placed a hand on the dark walnut before stepping back. 

“Descansa en paz, mi amigo, mi hermano, mi rey _.”_

Turning, Joseph exited the tomb into the bright afternoon sunshine and an unknown future. 

 

 

**The End**

 

Coming soon to a computer near you. 

The sequel to **Bien-aimé y Amado…**

**Amado e Adorato**

 

Two powerful men.

Which man will she choose?

One is sworn to her service, while the other is sworn to her heart.

Both must compete against the sworn duty to her country.

Will her duty to her country force both men from her side?

Or will love finally conquer all?


End file.
